UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
AT   LOS  ANGELES 


THE  GIFT  OF 

MAY  TREAT  MORRISON 

IN  MEMORY  OF 

ALEXANDER  F  MORRISON 


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FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE, 


AND    THE 


History  of  ttie  Pope's  Mule. 


Is  it  kissing  iny  housekeeper  before  my  face,  you  are;-  you  villain  !" 
said  the  Pope.— See  page  52. 


Father  Tom  and  the  Pope  ; 


OR, 


A  NIGHT  AT  THE  VATICAN. 


As  related  by  Mr.  Michael  Heffernan,  Master  of  the  ISTational 
School  at  Tallymactaggart,  In  ttie  Oountjr  of  Leltrim,  to  a 
friend,  during  his  official  visit  to  Dublin,  for  the  purpose 
of  studying  Political  Economy,  in  the  Spring  of  1838. 


From  Blackwood's  Edinburgh  Magazine,  May  1838. 


NEW  YORK. 
PETER  ECKLER,  PUBLISHER, 

No.  35  Fulton  Street. 


CM 


PREFACE. 

THE  famous  hero  of  the  witty  and  amusing 
brochure,  entitled  Father  Tom  and  the 
Pope,  which  first  appeared  in  Blackwood' s 
Edinburgh  Magazine  for  May,  1838,  is  gen- 
erally conceded  to  have  been  the  Reverend 
Thomas  Maguire,  Catholic  rector  of  a  remote 
parish  in  the  county  of  Leitrim,  in  the  north- 
west of  the  province  of  Connaught,  Ireland. 
The  same  gifted  prelate  was  subsequently 


o 

y> 

5 
on 

s    introduced  as  Father  Tom  Loftus,  in  Charles 

u.' 


Lever's  Harry  Lorreqtier. 

Mr.  Maguire  was  very  popular  in  Ireland 
because  it  was  claimed  that,  in  1827,  he  had 
defeated  the  Rev.  T.  P.  Pope,  a  Protestant 
clergyman  of  Cork,  in  a  six  days'  discussion 
on  controversial  points  of  the  faith  and  prac- 
tice of  the  Church  of  Rome  and  the  Church 

of  England,  —  because,  at  the  famous  Clare 

(5) 
y|  Of  1  i^-  r*  Js 


PREFACE. 


Election,  in  1828,  his  great  influence  and 
eloquence  were  exercised  in  behalf  of  Mr. 
O'Connell, — and  because,  several  years  later, 
following  up  the  polemical  policy  of  Dr. 
McHale,  R.  C.  Archbishop  of  Tuam,  he  had 
opposed  what  is  called  the  National  System 
of  Education  in  Ireland. 

The  question  of  the  authorship  of  Father 
Tom  and  the  Pope  has  caused  much  inquiry, 
and  has  been  variously  attributed  to  different 
writers — particularly  to  Dr.  Maginn,  to  the 
Rev.  Francis  Mahony,  (Father  Prout),  to  the 
late  John  Fisher  Murray,  of  Dublin,  and 
also  to  Samuel  Ferguson,  of  the  same  locality. 

It  is  clear,  from  the  local  allusions,  that  the 
author  was  familiar  with  the  county  of  Lei- 
trim  :  but  Dr.  Maginn  was  a  Southern,  who 
probably  never  was  ten  miles  north  of  Dublin 
at  any  time. 

Again,  the  author  must  have  been  person- 
ally familiar  with  Archbishop  Whately's  at- 
tempt to  have  the  National  Schoolmasters 
instructed  in  Political  Economy,  his  favorite 


PREFACE.  7 

science ;  but  Dr.  Maginn,  who  had  quitted 
DubHn  in  1818,  and  settled  in  London  in 
1824,  never  visited  Ireland  after  that  date. 

Francis  Mahony,  also  from  Cork,  was  in 
London,  writing  for  Magazines,  when  Father 
Tom  was  published,  and  could  not  have 
known  any  thing  of  its  subject:  besides,  his 
style  was  entirely  different. 

Mr.  J.  F.  Murray  was  "to  the  manor 
born,"  and  was,  besides,  familiar  with  every 
point,  serious  or  amusing,  in  the  Irish  Educa- 
tion Scheme,  and  from  November,  1836,  to 
June,  1 84 1,  he  had  contributed  to  Blackwood 
a  series  of  short  essays  on  that  subject,  writ- 
ten in  a  racy  and  familiar  manner.  This  fact 
has  induced  many  readers  to  credit  him  with 
the  authorship  of  Father  Tom,  but  no  direct 
evidence  that  such  is  the  case  has  yet  been 
produced. 

Mr.  Samuel  Ferguson  whose  Forging  of 
the  Anchor  is  indeed  a  noble  lyric,  and  attests 
his  great  ability,  was  not  generally  known  as 
a    humorous   writer,    and  yet   the  following 


8  PREFACE. 

Strong  claim  from  Fraser  s  Magazine,  that  he 
was  the  real  author  of  the  unique  and  genial 
sketch  of  Father  Tom's  convivial  visit  to  his 
Holiness,  seems  absolutely  unanswerable : 

"Sir  Samuel  Ferguson  is  the  designation 
by  which  a  true  and  admirable  English  poet 
will  hereafter  be  known,  and  possibly  better 
known  than  heretofore. 

"  He  is  a  native  of  County  Down,  and  has 
passed  the  most  of  his  life  in  the  obscure  City 
of  Dublin.  His  literary  fortune  has  been  a 
curious  one :  his  very  first  publication  was  a 
lyric  which  has  already  borne  the  wear  and 
tear  of  more  than  forty  years,  and  promises 
to  be  a  permanent  addition  to  English  litera- 
ture. It  was  published  in  Blackwood' s  Mag- 
azine, and  entitled  The  Forging  of  the  Anchor. 
This  was  read  and  applauded,  and  copied  and 
recopied  into  collections  of  verse  ;  but  the  au- 
thor kept  quiet  and  nobody  took  any  further 
particular  notice,  or  guessed  the  Rabelaisian 
Father  To7n  and  the  Pope,  in  the  same  maga- 


PREFACE.  9 

zine,  to  be  the  work  of  the  same  pen.  Father 
Tom,  I  may  say,  I  have  myself  seen  in  the 
flesh — a  stout,  sporting  priest  of  the  old 
school,  well  known  at  coursing  matches,  in 
Connaught  and  elsewhere.  Our  author's 
series  of  romantic  stories  from  Irish  history, 
called  Hibernian  Nights  Entertainment,  ap- 
peared in  the  Dublin  University  Magazine, 
then  in  the  pride  and  flower  of  its  youth. 
These  have  long  ago  been  reprinted  in  Amer- 
ica, but  not,  I  think,  elsewhere.  He  also 
contributed  many  notable  essays  on  Irish 
scenery,  etc.,  to  the  same  periodical.  In  1865 
Mr.  Ferguson  published  a  volume  of  collected 
poems  in  London,  Lays  of  the  IVestern  Gael, 
a  name  altogether  enigmatical  and  uninviting 
to  the  Sassanach  in  general.  It  accordingly 
was  a  dead  failure,  although  it  included  a 
number  of  poems  thoroughly  and  justly  es- 
tablished in  public  favor  in  Ireland  and  Amer- 
ica. After  this  the  author  published  his 
wonderfully  spirited  and  striking  epic  poem 
of  Congal,   with   the   same   result,   or  worse. 


lO  PREFACE. 

The  cockney  critics  in  general  took  no  notice 
of  the  book,  but  the  Saturday  Review  did  re- 
view it,  and  was  magnificently  contemptuous. 
An  account  of  it,  to  quite  a  different  tune,  will 
be  found  in  Fraser  for  May,  1875.  ^^  seems 
very  likely  that  a  poem  of  Ferguson  which 
appeared  in  Blackwood  the  other  day,  called 
The  IVidow's  Cloak,  expressing  tropically 
Victoria's  dominion  over  India,  is  the  proxi- 
mate cause  of  the  public  honor  now  done  to 
him.  But  be  that  as  it  may,  it  is  gratifying 
that  here,  at  least,  the  luck  has  fallen  to  the 
right  man,  and  that  a  gentle  public  may  have 
its  sagacious  eyes  turned  a  generation  or  so 
sooner  in  the  direction  of  this  particular  poet, 
and — who  knows? — of  ancient  Irish  literature, 
of  which  he  is  the  best  exponent  in  English. 
Sir  Samuel  Ferguson,  B.  C,  LL.  D.,  deputy 
keeper  of  the  Irish  records  (long  life  to  him!) 
is  moreover  a  highly  distinguished  archaeolo- 
gist, and — may  it  be  permitted  to  add  ? — one 
of  the  kindest  and  most  genial  of  men." 


FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE. 


CHAPTER  I. 

HOW  FATHER  TOM  WENT  TO  TAKE  POT  LUCK  AT  THE 
VATICAN. 

WHEN  his  Riv'rence  was  in  Room,  ov 
coorse  the  Pope  axed  him  to  take  pot 
luck  wid  him. 

More  be  token,  it  was  on  a  Friday ;  but, 
for  all  that,  there  was  plenty  of  mate  ;  for  the 
Pope  gev  himself  an  absolution  from  the  fast 
on  account  of  the  great  company  that  was  in 
it — at  laste  so  I'm  tould. 

Howandiver,  ther  s  no  fast  on  the  dhrink, 
any  how — glory  be  to  God ! — and  so,  as 
they  wor  sitting,  afther  dinner,  taking  their 
sup  together,  says  the  Pope,  says  he, 

"  Thomaus," — for  the  Pope,  you  know, 
spakes  that  away,  and  all  as   one  as  of  uz — 


12  FATHER  TOM.AND  THE  POPE. 

"Thomausi?  lamia,']  .s^^^ys  he,  "I'm  tould 
you  welt  them  Enghsh  heretics  out  ov 
the  face." 

"You  may  say  that,"  says  his  Riv'rencc 
to  him  again. 

"Be  my  sowl,"  says  he,  "  if  I  put  your 
HoHness  undher  the  table,  you  won't  be  the 
first  Pope  I  floored." 

Well,  his  Holiness  laughed  like  to  split ; 
for  you  know.  Pope  was  the  great  Prodesan 
that  Father  Tom  put  down  upon  Purgatho- 
ry ;  and  ov  coorse  they  knew  all  the  ins  and 
outs  of  the  conthravarsy  at  Room. 

"  Faix,  Thomaus,"  says  he,  smiling  across 
the  table  at  him  mighty  agreeable — "it's 
no  lie  what  they  tell  me,  that  yourself  is 
the  pleasant  man  over  the  dhrop  ov  good 
liquor." 

"Would  you  like  to  thry  ? "  says  his 
Riv'rence. 

"  Sure,  and  am'nt  I  thrying  all  I  can?" 
says  the  Pope.  "Sorra  betther  bottle  ov 
wine's    betuxt    this     and     Salamancha,    nor 


FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE.       I3 

there's  fornenst  you  on  the  table;  it's  raal 
Lachrymalchrystal,  every  spudh  ov  it. 

"  It's  mortial  could,"  says  Father  Tom. 

"Well,  man  alive,"  says  the  Pope,  "  sure 
and  here's  the  best  ov  good  claret  in  the  cut 
decanther." 

"Not  maining  to  make  little  ov  the  claret, 
your  Holiness,"  says  his  Riv'rence,  "  I  would 
prefir  some  hot  wather  and  sugar,  wid  a 
glass  ov  spirits  through  it,  if  convanient." 

"  Hand  me  over  the  bottle  of  brandy," 
says  the  Pope  to  his  head  butler,  "  and  fetch 
up  the  materi'ls,"  says  he. 

"  Ah,  thin,  your  Holiness,"  says  his  Riv'- 
rence, mighty  eager,  "  maybe  you'd  have  a 
dhrop  ov  the  native  in  your  cellar?  Sure  it's 
all  one  throuble,"  says  he,  "and  troth,  I 
dunna  how  it  is,  but  brandy  always  plays  the 
puck  wid  my  inthrails." 

"'Pon  my  conscience,  thin,"  says  the  Pope, 
"  it's  very  sorry  I  am,  Misther  Maguire," 
says  he,  "that  it  isn't  in  my  power  to 
plase   you  ;  for  I'm  sure    and    certaint  that 


14  FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE. 

there's  not  as  much  whiskey  in  Room  this 
blessed  minit  as  'ud  bhnd  the  eye  ov 
a   midge." 

"Well,  in  troth,  your  Holiness,"  says 
Father  Tom,  "  I  knewn  there  was  no  use  in 
axing;  only,"  says  he,  "I  didn't  know  how 
else  to  exqueeze  the  liberty  I  tuck,"  says  he, 
"of  bringin'  a  small  taste,"  says  he,  "of  the 
real  stuff,"  says  he,  hauling  out  an  imperi'l 
quart  bottle  out  ov  his  coat-pocket;  "that 
niver  seen  the  face  of  a  ganger,"  says  he, 
setting  it  down  fornenst  the  Pope  ;  "  and  if 
you'll  jist  thry  the  full  of  a  thimble  ov  it,  and 
it  doesn't  rise  the  cockles  ov  your  Holiness's 
heart,  why  thin,"  says  he,  "my  name  isn't 
Tom  Maguire !  "  and  wid  that  he  out's  wid 
the  cork. 

Well,  the  Pope  at  first  was  going  to  get 
vexed  at  Father  Tom  for  fetching  dhrink  that- 
away  in  his  pocket,  as  if  there  wasn't  lashins 
in  the  house:  so  says  he,  "Misther Maguire," 
says  he,  "Pd  have  you  to  comprehind  the 
differ  betuxt  an  inwitation  to  dinner  from  the 


'  Glory  be  to  God! ' '  says  the  Pope,  smacking  his  lips.     ' '  I  never  knewn  what 
dhrink  was  afore, ' '  says  he,  "  it's  Nechtar  itself,  it  is,  so  it  is." — See  p.  15. 


FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE.  I5 

succissor  to  Saint  Pether,  and  from  a  com- 
mon mayur  or  a  Prodesan  squirean  that 
maybe  has'nt  liquor  enough  in  his  cupboard 
to  whet  more  nor  his  own  heretical  whistle. 
That  may  be  the  way  wid  them  that  you 
wisit  in  Leithrim,"  says  he,  "and  in  Roscom- 
mon ;  and  Pd  let  you  know  the  differ  in  the 
prisint  case,"  says  he,  "  only  that  you're  a 
champion  ov  the  Church  and  entitled  to 
laniency.  So,"  says  he,  "  as  the  liquor's 
come,  let  it  stay.  And  in  troth  Pm  curis 
myself,"  says  he,  getting  mighty  soft  when 
he  found  the  delightful  smell  ov  \ht  putfeen, 
"  in  inwistigating  the  composition  ov  distilled 
liquors ;  it's  a  branch  ov  natural  philosophy," 
says  he,  taking  up  the  bottle  and  putting  it  to 
his  blessed  nose. 

Ah  !  my  dear,  the  very  first  snuff  he  got  ov 
it,  he  cried  out,  the  dear  man,  "Blessed  Var- 
gin,  but  it  has  the  divine  smell !  "  and  crossed 
himself  and  the  bottle  half  a  dozen  times 
running. 

"  Well,  sure  enough,  it's  the  blessed  liquor 


l6     FATHRER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE. 

now,"  says  his  Riv'rencc,  "  and  so  there  can 
be  no  harm  any  way  in  mixing  a  dandy  of 
punch  ;  and,"  says  he,  stirring  up  the  ma- 
teri'ls  wid  his  goolden  muddler — for  every 
thing  at  the  Pope's  table,  to  the  very  schrew 
for  drawing  the  corks,  was  ov  vergin  goold — 
"if  I  might  make  bould,"  says  he,  "to  spake 
on  so  deep  a  subjic  afore  your  Ploliness,  I 
think  it  'ud  considherably  whacilitate  the  in- 
westigation  ov  its  chemisthry  and  phwarma- 
ceutics,  if  you'd  jist  thry  the  laste  sup  in  life 
ov  it  inwardly." 

"Well  then,  suppose  I  do  make  the  same 
expiriment,"  says  the  Pope,  in  a  much  more 
condescinding  way  nor  you'd  have  expected 
— and  wid  that  he  mixes  himself  a  real  stiff 
facer. 

"  Now,  your  Holiness,"  says  Father  Tom., 
"this  bein'  the  first  time  you  ever  dispinsed 
them  chymicals,"  says  he,  "  I'll  jist  make 
bould  to  lay  doun  one  rule  ov  orthography," 
says  he,  "for  conwhounding  them,  secundum 
mortem!' 


FATHER  TOM  AXD  THE  POPE.      I7 

"What's  that?"  inquired  the  Pope 
kindly. 

*'  Put  in  the  sperits  first,"  says  his 
Riv'rence;  "and  then  put  in  the  sugar;  and 
remember,  every  dhrop  ov  wather  you  put  in 
after  that,  spoils  the  punch." 

"  Glory  be  to  God !  "  says  the  Pope,  not 
minding  a  word  Father  Tom  was  saying. 
"Glory  be  to  God!"  says  he,  smacking  his 
lips.  "  I  never  knewn  what  dhrink  was 
afore,"  says  he.  "It  bates  the Lachrymal- 
chrystal  out  ov  the  face!"  says  he — "it's 
Necthar  itself,  it  is,  so  it  is  !  "  says  he,  wiping 
his  epistolical  mouth  wid  the  cuff  ov  his 
coat. 

"'Pon  my  secret  honor,"  says  his  Riv'r- 
ence, "  I'm  raally  glad  to  see  your  Holiness 
set  so  much  to  your  satiswhaction ;  especial- 
ly," says  he,  "  as,  for  fear  of  accidents,  I  tuck 
the  liberty  of  fetching  the  fellow  ov  that  small 
vesshel,"  says  he,  "in  my  other  coat-pocket. 
So  devil  a  fear  of  our  running  dhry  till  the 
but-end  of  the  evening,  anyhow,"  says  he. 


1 8      FATHHR  TOM  AND  THE  POPE. 

"  Dhraw  your  stool  into  the  fire,  Misther 
Maguire,"  says  the  Pope,  "for  faix,"  says  he, 
"  I'm  bent  on  anahzing  the  metaphwysics 
ov  this  phinomenon.  Come,  man  alive, 
clear  off,"  says  he,  "you're  not  dhrinking 
at  all." 

"Is  it  dhrink?"  says  his  Riv'rence;  "by 
Gorra,  your  Holiness,"  says  he,  "  I'd  drink 
wid  you  till  the  cows  'ud  be  coming  home  in 
the  morning." 

So  wid  that  they  tackled  to,  to  the  sec- 
ond fugee  a-piece,  and  fell  into  a  larned  dis- 
course. 

But  it's  time  for  me  now  to  be  off  to  the 
lecthi'r  at  the  Boord.  Oh  my  sorra  light 
upon  you,  Docther  Whateley,  wid  your  piliti- 
cal  econimy  and  your  hydherastatics  !  What 
the  divul  use  has  a  poor  hedge-masther  like 
me  wid  sich  deep  larning  as  is  only  fit  for  the 
likes  ov  them  two  I  left  over  their  second 
tumbler? 

Howandiver,  wishing  I  was  like  thim, 
in    regard  ov  the   sup  ov  dhrink,  any  how, 


FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE.      I9 

I  must  brake  off  my  norration  for  the  prisint; 
but  whin  I  see  you  again,  I'll  tell  you 
how  Father  Tom  made  a  hare  ov  the 
Pope  that  evening,  both  in  theology  and 
the   cube   root. 


CHAPTER   II. 

HOW     FATHER     TOM     SACKED     HIS     HOLINESS     IN 
THEOLOGY  AND   LOGIC. 

A  X  7ELL,  the  lecther's  over,  and  Fm  kilt 
^  ^  out  and  out.  My  bitther  curse  be 
upon  the  man  that  invinted  the  same  Boord ! 
I  thought  onct  I'd  fadomed  the  say  of 
throuble ;  and  that  was  was  whin  I  got 
through  fractions  at  ould  Mat  Kavanagh's 
school,  in  Firdramore — God  be  good  to  poor 
Mat's  sowl,  though  he  did  deny  the  cause 
the  day  he  suffered !  but  its  fluxions  itself 
were  set  to  bottom  now,  sink  or  shwim ! 
May  I  never  die  if  my  head  isn't  as  through- 
other,  as  any  tiding  wid  their  ordinals  and 
cardinals — and,  begob,  it's  all  nothing  to  the 
econimy  lecthir  that  I  have  to  go  to  at  two 

o'clock. 

(20) 


FATHER  TOM  AXD  THE  POPE.  21 

Howandiver,  I  musn't  forget  that  we  left 
his  Riv'rence  and  his  HoHness  sitting  for- 
nenst  one  another  in  the  parlor  ov  the 
Vatican,  jist  afther  mixing  their  second 
tumbler. 

When  they  had  got  well  down  into  the 
same,  they  fell,  as  I  was  telling  you,  into 
learned  discourse.  For  you  see,  the  Pope 
was  curious  to  find  out  whether  Father  Tom 
was  the  great  theologinall  that  people  said ; 
and  says  he,  "Mister  Maguire,"  says  he, 
"  What  answer  do  you  make  to  the  heretics 
when  they  quote  them  passidges  agin  thran- 
substantiation  out  ov  the  Fathers?"  says  he. 

"Why,"  says  his  Riv'rence,  "as  there  is 
no  sich  passidges  I  make  myself  mighty  aisy 
about  them ;  but  if  you  want  to  know  how  I 
dispose  ov  them,"  says  he,  "just  repate  one 
ov  them,  and  I'll  show  you  how  to  catapom- 
phericate  it  in  two  shakes." 

"Why  then,"  says  the  Pope,  "myself 
disremimbers  the  particular  passidges  they 
allidge    out   ov   them   ould  felleys,"  says  he, 


22      FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE. 

"though  sure  enough  they're  more  numerous 
nor  edifying— so  we'll  jist  suppose  that  a 
heretic  was  to  find  sich  a  saying  as  this  in 
Austin,  '  Every  sensible  man  knows  that 
thransubstantiation  is  a  lie,' — or  this  out  ov 
Tertullian  or  Plutarch,  'the  bishop  ov  Rome 
is  a  common  imposther,' — now  tell  me,  could 
you  answer  him?" 

•*As  easy  as  kiss,"  says  his  Riv'rence. 
"In  the  first,  we're  to  understand  that  the 
exprission,  *  Every  sinsible  man,'  signifies 
simply,  'every  man  that  judges  by  his 
nath'ral  sinses  ;'  and  we  all  know  that  nobody 
foleying  them  seven  deludhers  could  ever 
find  out  the  mysthery  that's  in  it,  if  somebody 
didn't  come  in  to  his  assistance  wid  an  eighth 
sinse,  which  is  the  only  sinse  to  be  depended 
on,  being  the  sinse  ov  the  Church. 

"So  that,  regarding  the  first  quota- 
tion which  your  Holiness  has  supposed,  it 
makes  clane  for  us,  and  tee-totally  agin 
the  heretics." 

"That's   the   explanation   sure   enough," 


FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE.      23 

says  his  Holiness  ;  "and  now  what  div  you 
say  to  my  being  a  common  imposther  ?" 

"Faix,  I  think,"  says  his  Riv'rence,  "wid 
all  submission  to  the  better  judgment  ov  the 
learned  father  that  your  Holiness  has  quoted, 
he'd  have  been  a  thrifle  nearer  the  thruth,  if 
he  had  said  that  the  bishop  of  Rome  is  the 
grand  imposther  and  top-sawyer  in  that  line 
over  us  all." 

"What  do  you  mane?"  says  the  Pope, 
getting  quite  red  in  the  face. 

"  What  would  I  mane  ?  "  says  his  Riv'r- 
ence, as  composed  as  a  docther  ov  physic, 
**  but  that  your  Holiness  is  at  the  head  ov  all 
them — troth,  I  had  a' most  forgot  I  wasn't  a 
bishop  myself,"  says  he,  "the  deludher  was 
going  to  say,  as  the  head  of  all  ttz,  that  has 
the  gift  ov  laving  on  hands.  For  sure,"  says 
he,  "imposther  and  imposithir  is  all  one,  so 
you're  only  to  understand  manuum,  and  the 
job  is  done.  Auvuich  !  "  says  he,  "if  any 
heretic  'ud  go  for  to  cast  up  sich  a  passidge 
as     that    agin    me,    I'd     soon    give    him   a 


24  FATHHR  TOM  AND  THE  POPE. 

p'lite  art  ov  cutting  a  stick  to  welt  his  own 
back  wid." 

"'Pon  my  apostolical  word,"  says  the 
Pope,  "you've  cleared  up  them  two  pints  in 
a  most  satiswhactery  manner." 

"You  see,"  says  his  Riv'rence, — by  this 
time  they  wor  mixing  their  third  tumbler — 
"the  writings  of  them  Fathers  is  to  be  thrated 
wid  great  veneration  ;  and  it  'ud  be  the  height 
ov  presumption  in  any  one  to  sit  down  to 
interpret  them  widout  providing  himself  wid 
a  genteel  assortment  ov  the  best  figures  of 
rhetoric,  sich  as  mettonymy,  hyperbol,  cat- 
tychraysis,  prolipsis,  mettylipsis,  superbaton, 
pollysyndreton,  hustheronprotheron,  proso- 
dypeia  and  the  like,  in  ordher  that  he  may 
never  be  at  a  loss  for  shuitable  sintiments 
when  he  comes  to  their  high-flown  passidges. 
For  unless  we  thrate  them  Fathers  liberally 
to  a  handsome  allowance  ov  thropes  and 
figures,  they'd  set  up  heresy  at  onc't,  so  they 
would. 

"  It's    thru     for    you,"    says    the    Pope ; 


FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE.      25 

"  the  figures  ov  spache  is  the  pillars  ov 
the    Church." 

"  Bedad,"  says  his  Riv'rence,  "I  dunna 
what  we'd  do  widout  them  at  all." 

"Which  one  do  you  prefir  ? "  says  the 
Pope?  "that  is,"  says  he,  "which  figure  of 
spache  do  you  find  most  usefullest  when 
you're  hard  set  ?" 

"Metaphour's  very  good,"  says  his  Riv'r- 
ence, "and  so's  mettonymy — and  I've  known 
prosodypeia  stand  to  me  at  a  pinch  mighty 
well — but  for  a  constancy,  superbaton's  the 
figure  for  my  money.  Devil  be  in  me," 
says  he,  "but  I'd  prove  black  white  as  fast  as 
a  horse  'ud  throt,  wid  only  a  good  stock  ov 
superbaton." 

"Faix,"  says  the  Pope,  wid  a  sly  look, 
"you'd  need  to  have  it  backed,  I  judge,  wid 
a  small  piece  ov  assurance." 

"Well  now,  jist  for  that  word,"  says  his 
Riv'rence,  "I'll  prove  it  widout  aither  one  or 
other.  Black,"  says  he,  "is  one  thing,  and 
white  is  another  thing.     You  don't  conthra- 


26      FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE. 

vene  that  ?  But  every  thing  is  aither  one 
thing  or  another  thing ;  I  defy  the  apostle 
Paul  to  get  over  that  dilemma.  Well !  If 
any  thing  be  one  thing,  well  and  good  ;  but 
if  it  be  another  thing  then  it's  plain  it  isn't 
both  things,  and  so  can't  be  two  things — no- 
body can  deny  that.  But  what  can't  be  two 
things  must  be  one  thing, — Ergo,  whether 
it's  one  thing  or  another  thing  it's  all  one. 
But  black  is  one  thing  and  white  is  another 
thing, — Ergo,  black  and  white  is  all  one. 
Quod  erat  demons  thrandtim. 

"Stop  a  bit,"  says  the  Pope,  "I  can't 
althegither  give  in  to  your  second  minor — no 
— your  second  major,"  says  he,  and  he  stop- 
ped. "Faix,  then,"  says  he,  getting  con- 
fused, "I  don't  rightly  remimber  where  it 
was  exactly  that  I  thought  I  seen  the  flaw 
in  your  premises." 

"Howsomdiver,"  says  he,  "I  don't  deny 
that  it's  a  good  conclusion,  and  one  that  'ud 
be  ov  materi'l  service  to  the  Church  if  it  was 
dhrawn  wid  a  little  more  distinctiveness." 


FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE.      27 

"I'll  make  it  as  plain  as  the  nose  on  your 
Holiness's  face,  by  superbaton,"  says  his 
Riv'rence.  "  My  adversary  says,  black  is 
not  another  color,  that  is,  white  ?  Now  that's 
jist  a  parallel  passidge  wid  the  one  out  ov 
Tertullian  that  me  and  Hayes  smashed  the 
heretics  on  in  Clarendon  Sthreet.  'This  is 
my  body,  that  is,  the  figure  ov  my  body.' 
That's  a  superbaton,  and  we  showed  that  it 
oughtn't  to  be  read  that  way  at  all,  but  this 
way,  'This  figure  ov  my  body  is  my  body.' 
Jist  so  wid  my  adversary's  proposition,  it 
mustn't  be  undherstood  the  way  it  reads,  by 
no  manner  ov  manes  ;  but  it's  to  be  taken 
this  way, — '  Black,  that  is,  white,  is  not  an- 
other color, — green,  if  you  like,  or  orange, 
be  dad,  for  any  thing  I  care,  for  my  case  is 
proved.  'Black,  that  is,  'white,'  lave  out  the 
'that,'  by  sinnalayphy,  and  you  have  the 
orthodox  conclusion,  'Black  is  white,'  or  by 
convarsion,  'White  is  black.'  *' 

"It's  as  clear  as  mud,"  says  the  Pope. 

"  Bedad,"    says    his    Riv'rence,    "  I'm   in 


28      FATHRR  TOM  AND  THE  POPE. 

great  humor  for  disputin'  to-night.  I  wisht 
your  HoHness  was  a  heretic  jist  for  two  min- 
utes," says  he,  "till  you'd  see  the  flaking  I'd 
give  you  !" 

"Well  then,  for  the  fun  o'  the  thing,  sup- 
pose me  my  namesake,  if  you  like,"  says 
the  Pope  laughing,  "though  by  Jayminy," 
says  he,  "he's  not  one  that  I  take  much 
pride  out  ov." 

"  Verry  good — devil  a  betther  joke  ever 
I  had,"  says  his  RivVence.  "  Come,  then, 
Misther  Pope,"  says  he,  "hould  up  that  purty 
face  ov  yours,  and  answer  me  this  question. 
Which  'ud  be  the  biggest  lie,  if  I  said  I  seen 
a  turkev-cock  lying  on  the  broad  ov  his 
back,  and  picking  the  stars  out  ov  the  sky, 
or  if  I  was  to  say  that  I  seen  a  gandher  in 
the  same  intherrestin'  posture,  raycreating 
himself  wid  similar  asthronomical  experi- 
ments ?  " 

"  .\nswer   me   that,  you  ould  swaddler  !  " 
says  he. 
'   "  How    durst   you    call    me    a   swaddler. 


FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE.      29 

sir?"   says    the    Pope,    forgetting,    the   dear 
man,  the  part  he  was  acting. 

**  Don't  think  to  bully  me ! "  says  his 
Riv'rence,  I  always  daar  to  spake  the  truth, 
and  it's  wxll  known  that  you're  nothing  but 
a  swaddling  ould  sinner  of  a  saint,"  says  he, 
never  letting  on  to  percave  that  his  Holiness 
had  forgot  what  they  were  agreed  on. 

"By  all  that's  good,"  says  the  Pope,  "I 
often  hard  ov  the  imperance  ov  you  Irish 
afore,"  says  he,  "but  I  never  e^vpected  to  be 
called  a  saint  in  my  own  house,  either  by 
Irishman  or  Hottentot.  ''  I'll  till  you  what, 
Misther  Maguire,"  says  he,  "if  you  can't 
keep  a  civil  tongue  in  your  head,  you  had 
betther  be  walking  off  wid  yourself;  for  I  beg 
lave  to  give  you  to  undherstand,  that  it  won't 
be  for  the  good  ov  your  health  if  you  call 
me  by  sich  an  outprobrious  epithet  again," 
says  he. 

"  Oh,  indeed !  then  things  is  come  to  a 
purty  pass,"  says  his  Riv  rence,  (the  dear 
funny  soul  that  he  ever  was  !)  "when  the  likes 


30      FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE. 

ov  you  compares  one  ov  the  Maguires  ov 
Tempo,  wid  a  wild  Ingine !  Why,  man 
alive,  the  Maguires  was  kings  ov  Fermanagh 
three  thousand  years  afore  your  grandfather, 
that  was  the  first  ov  your  breed  that  ever 
wore  shoes  and  stockings'*  (I'm  bound  to 
say,  in  justice  to  the  poor  Prodesan,  that  this 
was  all  spoken  by  his  Riv'rence  by  way  ov  a 
figure  ov  spache),  **was  sint  his  Majesty's 
arrand  to  cultivate  the  friendship  ov  Prince 
Lee  Boo,  in  Botteney  Bay  !  Oh  Bryan 
dear,"  says  he,  letting  on  to  cry,  "if  you 
were  alive  to  hear  a  boddagh  Sassenagh  like 
this,  casting  up  his  counthry  to  one  ov  the 
name  ov  Maguire." 

"  In  the  name  ov  God,"  says  the  Pope, 
very  solemniously,  what  is  the  maning  ov  all 
this  at  all,  at  all?"  says  he. 

"  Sure,"  says  his  Riv'rence,  whispering 
to  him  across  the  table,  "  sure  you  know 
we're  acting  a  conthrawarsy,  and  you  tuck 
the  part  ov  the  Prodesan  champion.  You 
would' nt   be   angry   wid   me,   I'm   sure,  for 


FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE.      3  I 

sarving  out  the  heretic  to  the  best  ov  my 
abihty." 

'*  Oh  begad,  I  had  forgot,"  says  the  Pope, 
the  good-natured  ould  crethur ;  "  sure  enough 
you  were  only  taking  your  part  as  a  good 
Milesian  Catholic  ought  agin  the  heretic 
Sassenagh.  Well,"  says  he,  "fire  away, 
now,  and  I'll  put  up  wid  as  many  conthro- 
versial  compliments  as  you  plase  to  pay  me." 

"  Well,  then,  answer  me  my  question, 
you  sanctimonious  ould  dandy,"  says  his 
Riv'rence. 

"  In  troth,  then,"  says  the  Pope,  ''  I 
dunna  which  'ud  be  the  biggist  lie.  To  my 
mind,"  says  he,  "the  one  appears  to  be  about 
as  big  a  bounce  as  the  other." 

"  Why,  then,  you  poor  simpleton,"  says 
his  Riv'rence,  "don't  you  persave,  that  for- 
bye  the  advantage  the  gandher  'ud  have  in 
the  length  ov  his  neck,  it  'ud  be  next  to  em- 
possible  for  the  turkey-cock  lying  thataway 
to  see  what  he  was  about,  by  rason  ov  his 
djollars   and  other  accouthrements   hanging 


32  FATHIIR  TOM  AND  THE  POPE. 

back  over  his  eyes  ?  The  one  about  as  big 
a  bounce  as  the  other  !  Oh,  you  misfortunate 
crethur  !  if  you  had  ever  larned  your  A.  B.  C. 
in  theology,  you'd  have  known  that  there's  a 
differ  betuxt  them  two  hes  so  great,  that, 
begad,  I  wouldn't  wondher  if  it  'ud  make  a 
balance  ov  five  years  in  purgathory  to  the 
sowl  that  'ud  be  in  it.  Ay,  and  if  it  wasn't 
that  the  Church  is  too  liberal  entirely,  so  she 
is,  it  'ud  cost  his  heirs  and  succissors  betther 
nor  ten  pounds  to  have  him  out  as  soon  as 
the  other.  Get  along,  man,  and  take  half-a- 
year  at  dogmatical  theology :  go  and  read 
your  Dens,  you  poor  dunce,  you  !  " 

"  Raaly,"  says  the  Pope,  "you're  making 
the  heretics  shoes  too  hot  to  hould  me.  I 
wundher  how  the  Prodesans  can  stand  afore 
you  at  all." 

"Don't  think  to  delude  me,"  says  his 
Riv'rence,  "don't  think  to  back  out  ov  your 
challenge  now,"  says  he,  "but  come  to  the 
scratch  like  a  man,  if  you  are  a  man,  and 
answer  me  my  question.     What's  the  rason, 


FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE.      33 

now,  that  Julius  Caesar  and  the  Vargin  Mary 
was  born  upon  the  one  day — answer  me  that 
if  you  wouldn't  be  hissed  off  the  platform. 

Well,  my  dear,  the  Pope  couldn't  answer 
it,  and  he  had  to  acknowledge  himself  sacked. 
Then  he  axed  his  Riv'rence  to  tell  him  the 
rason  himself;  and  Father  Tom  communica- 
ted it  to  him  in  Latin. 

But  as  that  is  a  very  deep  question,  I 
never  hard  what  the  answer  was,  except  that 
I'm  tould  it  was  so  mysterious,  it  made  the 
Pope's  hair  stand  on  end. 

But  there's  two  o'clock,  and  Fll  be  late 
for  the  lecthir. 


CHAPTER   III. 

HOW     FATHER     TOM     MADE     A    HARE    OF    HIS     HOLI- 
NESS IN    LATIN. 

OH,  Docther  Whateley,  Docther  Whate- 
ley,  I'm  sure  I'll  never  die  another 
death,  if  I  don't  die  aither  ov  consumption  or 
production  !  I  ever  and  always  thought  that 
asthronomy  was  the  hardest  science  that  was 
till  now,  and  it's  no  lie  I'm  telling  you,  the 
same  asthronomy  is  a  tough  enough  morsel 
to  brake  a  man's  fast  upon — and  geolidgy  is 
middling  and  hard  too — and  hydherastatics 
is  no  joke, — but  ov  all  the  books  ov  science 
that  ever  was  opened  and  shut,  that  book 
upon  P'litical  Econimy  lifts  the  pins. 

Well,  well,  if  they  wait  till  they  persuade 
me  that  taking  a  man's  rints  out  ov  the 
counthry,  and  spinding  them  in  forrain  parts 

(34) 


FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE.      35 

isn't  doing  us  out  ov  the  same,  they'll  wait  a 
long  time,  in  troth. 

But  you're  waiting,  I  see,  to  hear  how 
his  Riv'rence  and  his  Holiness  got  on  after 
finishing  the  disputation  I  was  telling  you  ov. 

Well,  you  see,  my  dear,  when  the  Pope 
found  he  couldn't  hould  a  candle  to  Father 
Tom  in  theology  and  logic,  he  thought  he'd 
take  the  shine  out  ov  him  in  Latin  any 
how:  so  says  he,  "  Misther  Maguire,"  says 
he,  "I  quite  agree  wid  you  that  it's  not  lucky 
for  us  to  be  spaking  on  them  deep  subjects 
in  sich  langidges  as  the  evil  spirits  is  ac- 
quainted wid;  and,"  says  he,  "  I  think  it  'ud 
be  no  harm  for  us  to  spake  from  this  out  in 
Latin,"  says  he,  "for  fear  the  devil  'ud  un- 
dherstand  what  we  are  saying." 

"  Not  a  hair  I  care,"  says  Father  Tom, 
"  whether  he  undherstands  what  we're  say- 
ing or  not,  as  long  as  we  keep  off  that  last 
pint  we  wor  discussing  and  one  or  two 
others.  Listeners  never  hear  any  good  ov 
themselves,"    says    he,    "and     if    Belzhebub 


36      FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE. 

takes  any  thing  amiss  that  aither  you  or  me 
says  in  regard  ov  himself  or  his  faction,  let 
him  stand  forrid  like  a  man,  and  never  fear, 
I'll  give  him  his  answer." 

"  Howandiver,  if  it's  for  a  taste  ov  classic 
conwersation  you  are,  jist  to  put  us  in  mind 
ov  ould  Cordarius,"  says  he,  "  here's  at 
you  ;"  and  wid  that  he  lets  fly  at  his  Holiness 
wid  his  health  in  Latin. 

"  Vesthrae  Sanctitatis  salutem  volo," 
says  he. 

"Vesthrae  Revirintiae  salubritati  bibo," 
says  the  Pope  to  him  again,  (faith,  its  no  joke 
I  tell  you,  to  remimber  sich  a  power  ov 
larning).  "  Here's  to  you  wid  the  same," 
says  the  Pope,  in  the  raal  Ciceronian.  "Nunc 
poculum  alterhum  imple,"  says  he. 

"Cum  omni  jucunditate  in  vita,"  says  his 
Riv'rence.  "Cum  summa  concupiscintia  et 
animositate,"  says  he,  as  much  as  to  say, 
"Wid  all  the  veins  ov  my  heart,  I'll  do  that 
same,"  —  and  so  wid  that  they  mix'd  their 
fourth  gun  a-piece. 


FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE.  37 

"Aqua  vitas  vesthra  sane  est  liquor  ad- 
mirabilis,"  says  the  Pope. 

*'  Verum  est  pro  te, — it's  thrue  for  you  " 
— says  his  Riv'rence,  forgetting  the  idyim  ov 
the  Latin  phwraseology  in  a  manner. 

"  Prava  est  tua  Latinitas,  domine,"  says 
the  Pope,  finding  fault  like  wid  his  ety- 
mology. 

"  Parva  culpa  mihi,"  "  small  blame  to  me, 
that  is,"  says  his  Riv'rence,  "  nam  multum 
laboro  in  partibus  interioribus,"  says  he — the 
dear  man  !  that  never  was  at  a  loss  for  an 
excuse ! 

''Quid  tibi  incommodi  ?  "  says  the  Pope, 
axing  him  what  ailed  him. 

"  Habesne  id  quod  Anglice  vocamus,  a 
looking-glass,"  says  his  Riv'rence. 

"  Immo,  habeo  speculum  splendidissimum 
subther  operculum  pyxidis  hujus  starnuta- 
toriae,"  says  the  Pope,  pulling  out  a  beautiful 
goold  snuff-box,  wid  a  looking-glass  in 
undher  the  lid — "  Subther  operculum  pyxidis 
hujus  starnutatorii  —no — starnutatoriae — quam 


J) 


8      FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE. 


done  accepi  ab  Archi-duce  Austhriaco  siptu- 
agisima  praetherita,"  says  he — as  much  as  to 
say  that  he  got  the  box  in  a  prisint  from  the 
Queen  ov  Spain  last  Lint,  if  I  rightly  re- 
mi  mber. 

Well,  Father  Tom  laughed  like  to  burst. 
At  last,  says  he,  "  Father  Sancte,"  says  he, 
"sub  errore  jaces.  'Looking-glass'  apud 
nos  habet  significationem  quamdam  peculiar- 
em  ex  tempore  diei  dependentem," — there 
was  a  sthring  ov  accusatives  for  yez! — "  nam 
mane  speculum  sonat,"  says  he,  "postprandi- 
um  vero  mat — mat — mat" — sorra  be  in  me 
but  I  disremimber  the  classic  appellivation 
ov  the  same  article. 

Howandiver,  his  Riv'rence  went  on  ex- 
plaining himself  in  such  a  way  as  no  scholar 
could  mistake.  "  Vesica  mea,"  says  he,  "  ab 
illo  ultimo  eversore  distenditur,  donee  similis 
est  rumpere.  Verbis  apertis, "  says  he, 
"  Vesthrae  Sanctitatis  prassentia  salvata, 
aquam  facere  valde  desidhero." 

"  Ho,  ho,  ho  !  "  says   the   Fope,  grabbing 


FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE.      39 

up  his  box,  "  si  inquinavisses  meam  pyxidem, 
excimnicari  debuisses  —  Hillo,  Anthony," 
says  he  to  his  head  butler,  "  fetch  Misther 
Maguire  a" — 

"You  spoke  first!"  says  his  Riv'rence, 
jumping  off  his  sate:  "You  spoke  first  in 
the  vernacular !  I  take  Misther  Anthony  to 
witness,"  says  he. 

"What  else  would  you  have  me  to  do?" 
says  the  Pope,  quite  dogged  like  to  see  him- 
self bate  that-a-way  at  his  own  waypons. 
"  Sure,"  says  he,  "Anthony  wouldn't  undher- 
stand  a  B  from  a  bull's  foot,  if  I  spoke  to  him 
any  other  way." 

"Well,  then,"  says  his  Riv'rence,  "in 
considheration  ov  the  needcessity,"  says  he, 
"  I'll  let  you  off  for  this  time  !  but  mind  now, 
afther  I  say  proestJw,  the  first  ov  us  that 
spakes  a  word  ov  English  is  the  hare — 
prcBstho  !'' 

Neither  ov  them  spoke  for  near  a  minit, 
considering  wid  themselves  how  they  were 
to  begin  sich  a  great  thrial  ov  shkill.    At  last, 


40      FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE. 

says  the  Pope — the  blessed  man,  only  think 
how  'cute  it  was  ov  him! — "  Domine  Mac- 
guire,"  says  he,  "  valde  desidhero,  certiorem 
fieri  de  significatione  istius  verbi  eversor  quo 
jam  jam  usus  es" — (well,  surely  I  am  the 
boy  for  the  Latin  ! ) 

"  Eversor,  id  est  cyathus,  "  says  his 
Riv'rence,  ''  nam  apud  nos  tumbleri  seu  ev- 
ersores,  dicti  sunt  ab  evertendo  ceremoniam 
inter  amicos ;  non,  ut  Temperantiae  Societatis 
frigidis  fautoribus  placet,  ab  evertendis  ipsis 
potatoribus.  (It's  not  every  masther  undher 
the  Boord,  I  tell  you,  could  carry  sich  a  car 
load  ov  the  dead  langidges.)  "In  agro  vero 
Louthiano  et  Midensi,"  says  he,  "  nomine 
gaudent  quodam  secundum  linguam  Angli- 
canam  significante  bombardam  seu  torment- 
um ;  quia  ex  eis  tanquam  ex  telis  jaculatoriis 
liquorem  faucibus  immittere  solent.  Etiam 
inter  haereticos  illos  melanostomos"  (that  was 
a  touch  ov  Greek.)  "  Presbyterianos  Septen- 
trionales,  qui  sunt  terribiles  potatores,  Cyathi 
dicti  sunt  faceres,   et  dimidium  Cyathi  hcef- 


FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE.      4  I 

a-glessus.     Dimidium  Cyathi  vero  apud  Me- 
tropolitanos  Hibernicos  dicitur  dandy ^ — 

"  En  verbum  Anglicanum !  "  says  the 
Pope,  clapping  his  hands, — "  leporem  te 
fecisti ;  "  as  much  as  to  say  that  he  had  made 
a  hare  ov  himself. 

'' Dandoeus.dandoeus  verbum  erat,"  says  his 
Riv'rence — oh,  the  dear  man,  but  its  himself 
that  was  handy  ever  and  always  at  getting 
out  ov  a  hobble — '' dandceus  verbum  erat," 
says  he,  "quod  dicturus  eram,  cum  me  in- 
therpillavisti." 

"  Ast  ego  dico,"  says  the  Pope  very  sharp, 
"quod  verbum  tvdX  dandy.'' 

"Per  tibicinem  qui  coram  Mose  modula- 
tus  est,"  says  his  Riv'rence  "  'id  flagellat  mun- 
dum  !  Dandcciis  dixi,  et  tu  dicis  dandy  ;  ergo 
tu  es  lepus  non  ego — Ah,  ha !  Saccavi 
vesthram  Sanctitatem ! " 

"  Mendacium  est !"  says  the  Pope,  quite- 
forgetting  himself,  he  was  so  mad  at  being 
sacked  before  the  sarvints. 

Well,  if  it  hadn't  been  that  his  Holiness 


42      FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE. 

was  in  it,  Father  Tom  'ud  have  given  him 
the  contints  of  his  tumbler  betuxt  the  two 
eyes,  for  calHng  him  a  har  ;  and,  in  troth,  it's 
very  well  it  was  in  Latin  the  offince  was 
conweyed,  for,  if  it  had  been  in  the  vernac- 
ular, there's  no  saying  what  'ud  ha'  been  the 
consequence.  His  Riv'rence  was  mighty  angry 
anyhow. — "  Tu  senex  lathro,"  says  he,  "quo- 
modo  audes  me  mendacem  praedicare  ?  " 

"  Et  tu,  sacrilege  nebulo,"  says  the  Pope, 
"  quomodo  audacitatem  habeas,  me  Dei  in 
terris  vicarium,  lathronem  conwiciari?" 

"  Interroga  circumcirca,"  says  his  Riv'- 
rence. 

"  Abi  ex  aedibus  meis,"  says  the  Pope. 

"  Abi  tu  in  malem  crucem,"  says  his 
Rev'rence. 

"Excumnicabo  te,"  says  the  Pope. 

**  Diabolus  curat,"  says  his  Riv'rence. 

"  Anathema  sis,"  says  the  Pope. 

"  Oscula  meum  pod," — says  his  Riv'rence 
— but,  my  dear,  afore  he  could  finish  what  he 
was  going  to  say,  the   Pope  broke  out  into 


^^., 


^ 

% 


'^'j      ^' 


End  of  the  dispute  in  Laiiu.  — See  page  43. 


FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE.      43 

the  vernacular,  "  Get  out  o'  my  house,  you 
reprobate  !  "  says  he  in  sich  a  rage  that  he 
could  contain  himself  widin  the  Latin  no 
longer. 

"Ha,  ha,  ha! — ho,  ho,  ho!"  says  his 
Riv'rence,  "  Who's  the  hare  now,  your  Ho- 
liness ?  Oh,  by  this  and  by  that,  I've  sacked 
you  clane  !  Clane  and  clever  I've  done  it, 
and  no  mistake !  You  see  what  a  bit  ov 
desate  will  do  wid  the  wisest,  your  Holiness, 
— sure  it  was  joking  I  was,  on  purpose  to 
aggravate  you — all's  fair,  you  know,  in  love, 
law,  and  conthravarsy.  In  troth,  if  I'd 
thought  you'd  have  taken  it  so  much  to  heart 
I'd  have  put  my  head  into  the  fire  afore  I'd 
have  said  a  word  to  offend  you,"  says  he,  for 
he  seen  that  the  Pope  was  very  vexed. 
"  Sure,  God  forbid,  that  I'd  say  any  thing 
agin  your  Holiness,  barring  it  was  in  fun  : 
for  aren't  you  the  father  ov  the  faithful,  and 
the  thrue  vicar  ov  God  upon  earth  ?  And 
aren't  I  ready  to  go  down  on  my  two  knees 
this  blessed   minnit  and  beg  your  apostolical 


44      FATHER  TOM  AND  THH  POPE. 

pardon  for  every  word  that  I  said  to  your 
displasement  ?" 

"  Are  you  in  arnest  that  it  is  in  fun  you 
wer  ?  "  says  the  Pope. 

"  May  I  never  die  if  I  aren't,"  says 
his  Riv'rence.  "  It  was  all  to  provoke 
your  Holiness  to  commit  a  brache  ov  the 
Latin,  that  I  tuck  the  small  liberties  I  did," 
says  he. 

"  I'd  have  you  to  take  care,"  says  the 
Pope,  "  how  you  take  sich  small  liberties 
again,  or  may  be  you'll  provoke  me  to  com- 
mit a  brache  ov  the  pace." 

"  Well,  and  if  I  did,"  says  his  Riv'rence, 
"  I  know  a  sartan  preparation  ov  chymicals 
that's  very  good  for  curing  a  brache  either  in 
Latinity  or  friendship." 

"  What's  that  ? "  says  the  Pope,  quite 
mollified,  and  sitting  down  again  at  the 
table  that  he  had  ris  from  in  the  first  pluff  ov 
his  indignation. 

•'  What's  that?"  says  he,  "  for  'pon  my 
Epistolical  'davy,  I  think  it  'udn't  be   asy  to 


FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE.       45 

bate  this  miraculous  mixthir  that  we've  been 
thrying  to  anihze  this  two  hours  back,"  says 
he,  taking  a  mighty  scientifical  swig  out  ov 
the  bottom  ov  his  tumbler. 

"It's  good  for  a  beginning,"  say^  his 
Riv'rence ;  "it  lays  a  very  nate  foundation 
for  a  more  sarious  operation  :  but  we're  now 
arrived  at  a  period  ov  the  evening  when  it's 
time  to  proceed  wid  our  shuperstructure  by 
compass  and  square,  like  free  and  excipted 
masons  as  we  both  are." 

My  time's  up  for  the  present;  but  I'll  tell 
you  the  rest  in  the  evening  at  home. 


CHAPTER   IV. 

HOW     FATHER     TOM     AND     HIS     HOLINESS    DISPUTED 
AT    METAPHYSICS    AND    ALGEBRA. 

GOD  be  wid  the  time  when  I  went  to  the 
classical  seminary  ov  Firdramore ! 
when  I'd  bring  my  sod  o'  turf  undher  my 
arm,  and  sit  down  on  my  shnug  boss  o'  straw, 
wid  my  back  to  the  masther  and  my  shins  to 
the  fire,  and  score  my  sum  in  Dives's  denom- 
inations ov  the  double  rule  o'  three,  or  play 
fox  and  geese  wid  purty  Jane  Cruise  that  sat 
next  me,  as  plisantly  as  the  day  was  long, 
widout  any  one  so  much  as  saying,  "  Mikey 
Hefferman  what's  that  you're  about?" — for 
ever  since  I  was  in  the  one  lodge  wid  poor 
ould  Mat  I  had  my  own  way  in  his  school  as 
free  as  ever  I  had  in  my  mother's  shebeen. 
God   be   wid  them  days,  I  say  again,  for 


FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE.      47 

it's  althered  times  wid  me,  I  judge,  since  I 
got  undher  Carlisle  and  Whateley.  Sich 
schrictness !  sich  ordher  !  sich  dhrilling,  and 
lecthiring,  and  tuthoring  as  they  do  get  on 
wid !  I  wisht  to  gracious  the  one-half  ov 
their  rules  and  regilations  was  sunk  in  the 
say.  And  they're  getting  so  sthrict  too 
about  having  fair  play  for  the  heretic  childer! 
We've  to  have  no  more  schools  in  the 
chapels,  nor  masses  in  the  schools.  Oh,  by 
this  and  by  that  it'll  never  do  at  all ! 

The  ould  plan  was  twenty  times  betther : 
and,  for  my  own  part,  if  it  wasn't  that  the 
clargy  supports  them  in  a  manner,  and  the 
grant's  a  thing  not  easily  done  widout  these 
hard  times,  I'd  see  if  I  couldn't  get  a  shel- 
tered spot  nigh  hand  the  chapel,  and  set  up 
again  on  the  good  ould  principle :  and  faix,  I 
think  our  metropolitan  'ud  stand  to  me,  for  I 
know  that  his  Grace's  motto  was  ever  and 
always,  that,  ''Ignorance  is  the  thrne  another 
ov  piety!' 

But  I'm  running  away  from  my  narrative 


48      FATHHR  TOM  AND  THE  POPE. 

entirely,  so  I  am.  "You'll  plaseto  ordher  up 
the  housekeeper,  then,"  says  Father  Tom  to 
the  Pope,  "  wid  a  pint  ov  sweet  milk  in  a 
skillet,  and  the  bulk  ov  her  fist  ov  butthei, 
along  wid  a  dust  ov  soft  sugar  in  a  saucer, 
and  I'll  show  you  the  way  of  producing  a 
decoction  that,  I'll  be  bound,  will  hunt  the 
thirst  out  ov  every  nook  and  corner  in  your 
Holiness's  blessed  carcidge." 

The  Pope  ordhered  up  the  ingredients, 
and  they  were  brought  in  by  the  head 
butler. 

"  That'll  not  do  at  all,"  says  his  Riv'rence, 
"  the  ingredients  won't  combine  in  due  pro- 
portion unless  ye  do  as  I  bid  yez.  Send  up 
the  housekeeper,"  says  he,  "for  a  faymale 
hand  is  ondispinsably  necessary  to  produce 
the  adaption  of  the  particles  and  the  concur- 
rence ov  the  corpuscles,  widout  which  you 
might  boil  till  morning  and  never  fetch  the 
cruds  off  ov  it." 

"  Well,  the  Pope  whispered  to  his  head 
butler,   and   by   and   by   up  there  comes   an 


FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE.      49 

ould  faggot  ov  a  Caillean  that  was  enough 
to  frighten   a  horse  from  his  oats. 

"  Don't  thry  for  to  decave  me,"  says  his 
Riv'rence,  "  for  its  no  use,  I  tell  yez.  Send 
up  the  housekeeper,  I  bid  yez :  I  seen  her 
presarving  gooseberries  in  the  panthry  as  I 
came  up:  she  has  eyes  as  black  as  a  sloe," 
says  he,  "and  cheeks  like  the  rose  in  June; 
and  sorra  taste  ov  this  celestial  mixthir  shall 
crass  the  lips  ov  man  or  mortial  this  blessed 
night  till  she  stirs  the  same  up  wid  her  own 
delicate  little  finger. 

'*  Misther  Maguire,"  says  the  Pope,  "it's 
very  unproper  ov  you  to  spake  that  way  ov 
my  housekeeper:  I  won't  allow  it,  sir." 

"  Honor  bright,  your  Holiness,"  says  his 
Riv'rence,  laying  his  hand  on  his  heart. 

"  Oh,  by  this  and  by  that,  Misther  Ma- 
guire," says  the  Pope,  "I'll  have  none  of 
your  insinivations  ;  I  don't  care  who  sees  my 
whole  household,"  says  he;  "I  don't  care  if  all 
the  faymales  undher  my  roof  was  paraded 
down  the  High  Street  ov  Room,"  says  he. 


50      FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE. 

"Oh,  its  plain  to  be  seen  how  Httle  you 
care  who  sees  them,"  says  his  Riv'rence. 
"  You're  afeared,  now,  if  I  was  to  see  your 
housekeeper,  that  I'd  say  she  was  too  hand- 
some." 

"No,  I'm  not!"  says  the  Pope,  "I  don't 
care  who  sees  her,"  says  he,  "  Anthony," 
says  he  to  the  head  butler,  "  bid  Eliza  throw 
her  apron  over  her  head,  and  come  up 
here." 

Wasn't  that  stout  in  the  blessed  man  ? 
Well,  my  dear,  up  she  came,  stepping  like  a 
three-year  old,  and  blushing  like  the  brake 
o'  day :  for  though  her  apron  was  thrown 
over  her  head  as  she  came  forrid,  till  you 
could  barely  see  the  tip  ov  her  chin — more 
be  token  there  was  a  lovely  dimple  in  it,  as 
I've  been  tould — yet  she  let  it  shlip  abit  to 
one  side,  by  chance  like,  jist  as  she  got 
fornenst  the  fire,  and  if  she  would'nt  have 
given  his  Riv'rence  a  shot  if  he  hadn't  been 
a  priest,  it's  no  matther. 
;    "  Now,   my   dear,"  says   he,    "  You   must 


FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE.      5 1 

take  that  skillet,  and  hould  it  over  the 
fire  till  the  milk  comes  to  a  blood  hate  ;  and 
the  way  you'll  know  that,  will  be  by  stirring 
it  onc't  or  twice  wid  the  little  finger  ov  your 
right  hand,  afore  you  put  in  the  butther ;  not 
that  I  misdoubt,"  says  he,  "but  that  the 
same  finger's  fairer  nor  the  whitest  milk  that 
ever  came  from  the  tit." 

"  None  of  your  deludhering  talk  to  the 
young  woman,  sir,"  says  the  Pope,  mighty 
stern.  "Stir  the  posset  as  he  bids  you, 
Eliza,  and  then  be  off  wid  yourself," 
says  he. 

"  I  beg  your  Holiness's  pardon  ten  thou- 
sand times,"  says  his  Riv'rence.  "  I'm  sure 
I  meant  nothing  onproper  ;  I  hope  I'm  un- 
capable  ov  any  sich  dirilection  ov  my  duty," 
says  he.  "But  marciful  Saver!"  he  cried 
out,  jumping  up  on  a  suddent,  "  look  behind 
you,  your  Holiness  —  I'm  blest,  but  the 
room's  on  fire !" 

Sure  enough  the  candle  fell  down  that 
minit,  and  was  near  setting  fire  to  the  windy- 


52      FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE. 

curtains,  so  there  was  some  bustle,  as  you 
may  suppose,  getting  things  put  to  rights. 

And  now  I  have  to  tell  you  ov  a  really 
onpleasant  occurrence.  If  I  was  a  Prodesan 
that  was  in  it,  I'd  say  that  while  the  Pope's 
back  was  turned.  Father  Tom  made  free  wid 
the  two  lips  ov  Miss  Eliza ;  but,  upon  my 
conscience,  I  believe  it  was  a  mere  mistake 
that  his  Holiness  fell  into  on  account  ov  his 
being  an  old  man  and  not  having  aither  his 
eyesight  or  his  hearing  very  parfect.  At 
any  rate  it  can't  be  denied  but  that  he  had  a 
sthrong  imprission  that  sich  was  the  case ; 
for  he  wheeled  about  as  quick  as  thought, 
jist  as  his  Riv'rence  was  sitting  down,  and 
charged  him  wid  the  offence  plain  and  plump. 

"Is  it  kissing  my  housekeeper  before  my 
face,  you  arc,  you  villain!"  says  he,  "Go 
down  out  o"  this,"  says  he,  to  Miss  Eliza, 
"  and  do  you  be  packing  off  wid  you,"  he 
says  to  Father  Tom,  "  for  its  not  safe,  so  it 
isn't,  to  have  the  likes  ov  you  in  a  house 
where  there's  temptation  in  your  way." 


FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE.  53 

"Is  it  me?  "says  his  Riv'rence ;  "why 
what  would  your  HoHness  be  at,  at  all  ? 
Sure  I  wasn't  doing  no  such  thing." 

"  Would  you  have  me  doubt  the  evidence 
ov  my  sinses  ?  "  says  the  Pope  ;  "  would  you 
have  me  doubt  the  testimony  ov  my  eyes 
and  ears  ?  "  says  he. 

"  Indade,  I  would  so,"  says  his  Riv'rence, 
"  if  they  pretend  to  have  informed  your 
Holiness  ov  any  sich  foolishness." 

"Why,"  says  the  Pope,  "I've  seen  you 
afther  kissing  Eliza  as  plain  as  I  see  the 
nose  on  your  face ;  I  heard  the  smack  you 
gave  her  as  plain  as  ever  I  heard  thun- 
dher." 

"  And  how  do  you  know  whether  you 
see  the  nose  on  my  face  or  not  ?  "  says  his 
Riv'rence,  "  and  how  do  you  know  whether 
what  you  thought  was  thundher,  was  thun- 
dher  at  all  ?  " 

"  Them  operations  on  the  sinses,"  says 
he,  "comprises  only  particular  corporeal 
emotions,    connected    wid    sartain    confused 


54      FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE. 

perciptions  called  sinsations,  and  isn't  to  be 
depended  upon  at  all. 

"  If  we  were  to  follow  them  blind  guides, 
we  might  jist  as  well  turn  heretics  at  onc't. 

" '  Pon  my  secret  word,  your  Holiness, 
it's  neither  charitable  nor  orthodox  ov  you 
to  set  up  the  testimony  ov  your  eyes  and 
ears  agin  the  characther  ov  a  clergynnan. 

"  And  now,  see  how  aisy  it  is  to  explain 
all  them  phwenomena  that  perplexed  you. 

"  I  ris  and  went  over  beside  the  young 
woman  because  the  skillet  was  boiling  over, 
to  help  her  save  the  dhrop  ov  liquor  that  was 
in  it ;  and  as  for  the  noise  you  heard,  my 
dear  man,  it  was  neither  more  nor  less 
nor  myself  dhrawing  the  cork  out  ov  this 
blissed  bottle." 

"Don't  offer  to  thrape  that  upon  me!" 
says;  the  Pope,  "  here's  the  cork  in  the  bottle 
still,  as  tight  as  a  wedge." 

**  I  beg  your  pardon,"  says  his  Riv'rence, 
"that's  not  the  cork  at  all,"  says  he:  "  I 
dhrew  the  cork  a  good  two  minits  ago,  and 


FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE.      55 

it's  very  purtily  spitted  on  the  end  ov  this 
blessed  cork-schrew  at  this  prisint  moment ; 
howandiver  you  can't  see  it,  because  it's  only 
its  real  prisince  that's  in  it.  But  that  appear- 
ance that  you  call  a  cork,"  says  he,  "  is 
nothing  but  the  outward  spacies  and  exter- 
nal qualities  of  the  cortical  nathur.  Them's 
nothing  but  the  accidents  of  the  cork  that 
you're  looking  at  and  handling ;  but,  as  I  told 
you  afore,  the  real  cork's  dhrew,  and  is  here 
prisint  on  the  end  ov  this  nate  little  insthru- 
ment,  and  it  was  the  noise  I  made  in  dhraw- 
ing  it,  and  nothing  else,  that  you  mistook  for 
the  sound  ov  the/<9^//<?."* 

You  know  there  was  no  conthravening 
what  he  said ;  and  the  Pope  couldn't  openly 
deny  it.  Howandiver  he  thried  to  pick  a 
hole  in  it  this  way  : 

"Granting,"  says  he,  "that  there  is  the 
differ  you  say  betwixt  the  reality  ov  the  cork 
and  these    cortical    accidents  ;   and   that  it's 

*  This  theological  chatter  about  the  "real  presence,"  and  the  "  outward  and 
external  qualities," — about  spirit  and  matter — so  convincing  and  consoling  to 
the  believing  mind,  is  to  the  student  of  nature  "like  a  twice-told  tale,  full  of 
sound  and  fury,  signifying  nothing." — Pub. 


56      FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE. 

quite  possible,  as  you  allidge,  that  the  thrue 
cork  is  really  presint  on  the  end  ov  the 
shcrew,  while  the  accidents  keep  the  mouth 
ov  the  bottle  stopped — still,"  says  he,  "  I 
can't  undherstand,  though  willing  to  acquit 
you,  how  the  dhrawing  ov  the  real  cork, 
that's  onpalpable  and  widout  accidents,  could 
produce  the  accident  ov  that  sensible  explo- 
sion I  heard  jist  now." 

"All  I  can  say,"  says  his  Riv'rence,  "is  that, 
I'm  sinsible  it  was  a  rale  accident,  any  how." 

"Ay,"  says  the  Pope,  "the  kiss  you  gev 
Eliza,  vou  mane." 

"  No,"  says  his  Riv'rence,  "but  the  re- 
port I  made." 

"  I  don't  doubt  you,"  says  the  Pope. 

"  No  cork  could  be  dhrew  with  less 
noise,"  says  his  Riv'rence. 

"It  would  be  hard  for  any  thing  to  be 
less  nor  nothing,  barring  Algebra,"  says  the 
Pope. 

"  I  can  prove  to  the  conthrary,"  says  his 
Riv'rence.      "This   glass  ov  whisky  is   less 


FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE.      57 

nor  that  tumbler  ov  punch,  and  that  tumbler 
ov  punch  is  nothing  to  this  jug  ov  scaltheeny 

"  Do  you  judge  by  superficial  misure  or 
by  the  liquid  contents  ?"  says  the  Pope. 

"  Don't  stop  me,  betwixt  my  premisses 
and  my  conclusion,"  says  his  Riv'rence : 
"  Ergo,  this  glass  ov  whisky  is  less  nor 
nothing ;  and  for  that  raison  I  see  no  harm 
in  life  in  adding  it  to  the  contents  ov  the 
same  jug,  just  by  way  ov  a  frost  nail." 

**  Adding  what's  less  nor  nothing,"  says 
the  Pope,  "  is  substraction  according  to  alge- 
bra, so  here  goes  to  make  the  rule  good," 
says  he,  filling  his  tumbler  wid  the  blessed 
stuff,  and  sitting  down  again  at  the  table,  for 
the  anger  didn't  stay  two  minits  on  him,  the 
good -hearted  old  sowl. 

*'  Two  minuses  make  one  plus,"  says  his 
Riv'rence,  as  ready  as  you  plase,  "and  that'll 
account  for  the  increased  daycrement  I  mane 
to  take  the  liberty  ov  producing  in  the  same 
mixed  quantity,"  says  he,  follying  his 
Holiness's  epistolical  example. 


58      FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE. 

"  By  all  that's  good,"  says  the 
Pope,  "that's  the  best  stuff  I  ever  tasted; 
you  call  it  a  mixed  quantity,  but  I  say  it's 
prime," 

"Since  it's  ov  the  first  ordher,  then," 
says  his  Riv'rence,  "we'll  have  the  less  def- 
feequilty  in  reducing  it  to  a  simple  equa- 
tion. 

"  You'll  have  no  fractions  at  my  side,  any 
how,"  says  the  Pope.  "  Faix,  Pam  afeared," 
says  he,  "it's  only  too  aisy  ov  solution  our 
sum  is  like  to  be." 

"  Never  fear  for  that,"  says  his  Riv'rence, 
"  Pve  a  good  stock  ov  surds  here  in  the  bot- 
tle ;  for  I  tell  you  it  will  take  us  a  long  time 
to  exthract  the  root  ov  it,  at  the  rate  we're 
going  on." 

"What  makes  you  call  the  blessed  quart 
an  irrational  quantity  ?  "  says  the  Pope. 

"  Becase  it's  too  much  for  one  and  too 
little  for  two,"  says  his  Riv'rence. 

"  Clear  it  ov  its  coefficient,  and  we'll 
thry,"  says  the  Pope. 


FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE.  59 

"Hand  me  over  the  exponent,  then,"  says 
his  Riv'rence. 

"What's  that?"  says  the  Pope. 

"  The  schrevv,  to  be  sure,"  says  his 
Riv'rence. 

"  What  for  ?"  says  the  Pope. 

"  To  dhraw  the  cork,"  says  his  Riv'rence. 

"  Sure,  the  cork's  dhrew,"  says  the  Pope. 

But  the  sperits  can't  get  out  on  account 
ov  the  accidents  that's  stuck  in  the  neck  ov 
the  bottle,"  says  his  Riv'rence. 

"  Accident  ought  to  be  passable  to 
sperit,"  says  the  Pope,  and  that  makes  me 
suspect  that  the  reality  ov  the  cork's  in  it 
afther  all." 

"That's  a  barony-masia,"  says  his  Riv'r- 
ence, "and  Pm  not  bound  to  answer  it.  But 
the  fact  is,  that  it's  the  accidents  ov  the  sperits 
too  that's  in  it,  and  the  reality's  passed  out 
through  the  cortical  spacies  as  you  say ;  for, 
you  may  have  observed,  we've  both  been  in 
real  good  sperits  ever  since  the  cork  was 
dhrawn,    and    where    else    would    the     real 


6o  FATHER  1  OM  AND  THE  POPE. 

sperits  come  from  if  they  wouldn'nt  come  out 
ov  the  bottle?" 

"Well,  then,"  says  the  Pope,  since  we've 
got  the  reality,  there's  no  use  throubling  our- 
selves wid  the  accidents." 

"  Oh,  begad,  says  his  Riv'rence,  the  acci- 
dents is  very  essential  too ;  for  a  man  may 
be  in  the  best  ov  good  sperits,  as  far  as  his 
immaterial  part  goes,  and  yet  need  the  acci- 
dental qualities  ov  good  liquor  to  hunt  the 
sinsible  thirst  out  ov  him." 

So  he  dhraws  the  cork  in  earnest,  and 
sets  about  brewing  the  other  skillet  ov  scal- 
theen  ;  but,  faix,  he  had  to  get  up  the  ingre- 
dients this  time  by  the  hands  ov  ould  Molly ; 
though  devil  a  taste  ov  her  little  finger  he'd 
let  widin  a  yard  ov  the  same  decoction. 

But,  my  dear,  here's  the  Freeinans 
yournal,  and  we'll  see  what's  the  news  afore 
we  finish  the  residuary  proceedings  ov  their 
two  Holinesses. 


CHAPTER   V. 

THE     REASON     WHY    FATHER    TOM    WAS     NOT     MADE    A 
CARDINAL. 

T  T  URROO.  my  darlings  !—did'nt  I  tell 
-^  ^  you  it  'ud  never  do  ?  Success  to 
bould  John  Tuam  and  the  ould  siminary  ov 
Firdramore !  Oh,  more  power,  to  your 
Grace  every  day  you  rise,  'tis  you  that  has 
broken  their  Boord  into  shivers  undher  your 
feet! 

Sure,  and  isn't  it  a  proud  day  for  Ireland, 
this  blessed  feast  ov  the  chair  ov  Saint 
Pether  ?  Isn't  Carlisle  and  Whateley 
smashed  to  pieces,  and  their  whole  col- 
lege ov  swaddling  teachers  knocked  into 
smidhereens  ? 

John  Tuam,  your  sowl,  has  tuck  his 
pasthoral  staff  in  his  hand  and  heathen  them 

(611 


62      FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE. 

out  o'  Connaught  as  fast  as  ever  Pathrick 
druve  the  sarpints  into  Clew  Bay. 

Poor  ould  Mat  Kavanagh,  if  he  was  ahve 
this  day,  'tis  he  would  be  the  happy  man. 
"My  curse  upon  their  g'ographies  and 
Bibles,"  he  used  to  say  ;  "  where's  the  use  ov 
perplexing  the  poor  childer  wid  what  we 
don't  undherstand  ourselves?"  no  use  at 
all,  in  troth,  and  so  I  said  from  the  first 
myself. 

"  Well,  thank  God  and  his  Grace,  we'll 
have  no  more  thrigonomethry  nor  scripther 
in  Connaught.  We'll  hould  our  lodges 
every  Saturday  night,  as  we  used  to  do,  wid 
our  chairman  behind  the  masther's  desk,  and 
we'll  hear  our  mass  every  Sunday  morning 
wid  the  blessed  priest  standing  afore  the 
same. 

I  wisht  to  goodness  I  had'nt  parted  wid 
my  Seven  Champions  ov  Christendom  and 
Freney,  the  Robber :  they're  books  that'll  be 
in  great  requist  in  Leithrim  as  soon  as  the 
pasthoral  gets  wind.     Glory  be  to  God!    Fve 


FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE.      63 

done  wid  their  lecthirs — they  may  all  go  and 
be  d d  wid  their  consumption  and  pro- 
duction. 

I'm  off  to  Tallymactaggart,  before  day- 
light in  the  morning,  where  I'll  thry  whether 
a  sod  or  two  o'  turf  can't  consume  a  cart- 
load ov  heresy,  and  whether  a  weekly  meet- 
ing ov  the  lodge  can't  produce  a  new  thayory 
ov  rints. 

But  afore  I  take  my  lave  ov  you,  I  may 
as  well  finish  my  story  about  poor  Father 
Tom,  that  I  hear  is  coming  up  to  whale  the 
heretics  in  Adam  and  Eve,  during  the  Lint. 

The  Pope — and  indeed  it  ill  becomes  a 
good  Catholic  to  say  any  thing  agin  him — 
no  more  would  I,  only  that  his  Riv'rence 
was  in  it — but  you  see  the  fact  ov  it  is,  that 
the  Pope  was  as  envious  as  ever  he  could  be, 
at  seeing  himself  sacked  right  and  left  by 
Father  Tom ;  and  bate  out  o'  the  face,  the 
way  he  was,  on  every  science  and  subjec' 
that  was  started.  So,  not  to  be  outdone 
altogether,  he  says  to  his   Riv'rence  "  you're 


64      FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE. 

a  man  that's  fond  ov  the  brute  crayation,  I 
hear,  Misther  Maguire  ?  " 

"  I  don't  deny  it,"  says  his  Riv'rence, 
"  I've  dogs  that  I'm  wilHng  to  run  agin  any 
man's,  ay,  or  to  match  them  agin  any  other 
dogs  in  the  world  for  genteel  edication  and 
polite  manners,"  says  he. 

"  I'll  hould  you  a  pound,"  says  the  Pope, 
"that  I've  a  quadhruped  in  my  possession 
that's  a  wiser  baste  nor  any  dog  in  your 
kennel." 

"  Done,"  says  his  Riv'rence,  and  they 
staked  the  money. 

"What  can  this  larned  quadhruped  o' 
yours  do  ?  "  says  his  Riv'rence. 

"  It's  my  mule,"  says  the  Pope,*  "and,  if 
you  were  to  offer  her  goolden  oats  and  clover 
off  the  meadows  o'  Paradise,  sorra  taste  ov 
aither  she'd  let  pass  her  teeth  till  the  first 
mass  is  over  every  Sunday  or  holiday  in  the 
year." 

*  A  History  of  the  Pope's  Mule,  from  the  pen  of  Alphonse  Daudet,  has  been 
added  to  tliis  work,  in  which  we  are  told  that  this  mule  waited  for  seven  long 
years  for  an  opportunity  to  gratify  her  secret  revenge,  and  that  in  the  persist- 
ence and  intensity  of  her  hatred,  this  favored  quadruped  could  scarcely  be 
excelled  by  the  most  devout  and  orthodox  of  religious  bipeds. — Pub. 


FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE.      65 

"Well,  and  what  'ud  you  say  if  I  showed 
you  a  baste  ov  mine,"  says  his  Riv'rence, 
"  that,  instead  ov  fasting  till  first  mass  is 
over  only,  fasts  out  the  w^hole  four-and- 
twenty  hours  ov  every  Wednesday  and  Fri- 
day in  the  week,  as  reg'lar  as  a  Christian  ?" 

"Oh,  be  aisy,  Masther  Maguire,"  says 
the  Pope. 

"  You  don't  believe  me,  don't  you?  "  says 
his  Riv'rence,  "very  well,  I'll  soon  show 
you  whether  or  no,"  and  he  put  his  knuckles 
in  his  mouth,  and  gev  a  whistle  that  made 
the  Pope  stop  his  fingers  in  his  ears. 

The  aycho,  my  dear,  was  hardly  done 
playing  wid  the  cobwebs  in  the  cornish, 
when  the  door  flies  open,  and  in  jumps 
Spring. 

The  Pope  happened  to  be  sitting  next 
the  door,  betuxt  him  and  his  Riv'rence,  and, 
may  I  never  die,  if  he  did'nt  clear  him,  thriple 
crown  and  all,  at  one  spring. 

"  God's  presence  be  about  us  !  "  says  the 
Pope,  thinking  it  was   an  evil  spirit  come  to 


66      FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE. 

fly  away  wid  him  for  the  He  that  he  had  told 
in  regard  ov  his  mule  (for  it  was  nothing 
more  nor  a  thrick  that  consisted  in  grazing 
the  brute's  teeth) :  but,  seeing  it  was  only  one 
ov  the  greatest  beauties  ov  a  greyhound  that 
he'd  ever  laid  his  epistolical  eyes  on,  he  soon 
recovered  ov  his  fright,  and  bagan  to  pat 
him,  while  Father  Tom  ris  and  went  to  the 
sideboord,  where  he  cut  a  slice  ov  pork,  a 
sHce  ov  beef,  a  slice  ov  mutton,  and  a  slice  ov 
salmon,  and  put  them  all  on  a  plate  thegither. 

"  Here,  Spring,  my  man,"  says  he,  set- 
ting the  plate  down  afore  him  on  the  hearth- 
stone, "  here's  your  supper  for  you  this 
blessed  Friday  night." 

Not  a  word  more  he  said  nor  what  I  tell 
you ;  and,  you  may  believe  it  or  not,  but  it's 
the  blessed  truth  that  the  dog,  afther  jist 
tasting  the  salmon,  and  spitting  it  out  again, 
lifted  his  nose  out  o'  the  plate,  and  stood  wid 
his  jaws  wathering,  and  his  tail  wagging, 
looking  up  in  his  Riv'rence's  face,  as  much 
as  to  say : 


FATHER  TOM  AKD  THE  POPE.      67 

"  Give  me  your  absolution,  till  I  hide 
them  temptations  out  o'  my  sight." 

"There's  a  dog  that  knows  his  duty," 
says  his  Rivrence ;  "there's  a  baste  that 
knows  how  to  conduct  himself  aither  in  the 
parlor  or  the  field. 

"You  think  him  a  good  dog,  looking  at 
him  here :  but  I  wish't  you'd  seen  him  on 
the  side  ov  Slieve-an-Eirin  !  Be  my  soul, 
you'd  say  the  hill  was  running  away  from 
undher  him.  Oh  I  wish't  you  had  been  wid 
me,"  says  he,  never  letting  on  to  see  the  dog 
at  all,  "  one  day,  last  Lent,  that  I  was  coming 
from  mass.  Spring  was  near  a  quarther  ov 
a  mile  behind  me,  for  the  childher  was  de- 
laying him  wid  bread  and  butthef  at  the 
chapel  door ;  when  a  lump  ov  a  hare  jumped 
out  ov  the  plantations  ov  Grouse  Lodge  and 
ran  acrass  the  road ;  so  I  gev  the  whilloo, 
and  knowing  that  she'd  take  the  rise  ov  the 
hill,  I  made  over  the  ditch,  and  up  through 
Muilaghcashel  as  hard  as  I  could  pelt,  still 
keeping  her  in  view,  but  afore  I  had  gone  a 


68      FATHKR  TOM  AND  THE  POPE. 

perch,  Spring  seen  her,  and  away  the  two 
went  Hke  the  wind,  up  Drumrewy,  and  down 
Clooneen,  and  over  the  river,  widout  his 
being  able  onc't  to  turn  her. 

"  Well,  I  run  on  till  I  come  to  the 
Diffagher,  and  through  it  I  went,  for  the 
wather  was  low  and  I  didn't  mind  being  wet 
shod,  and  out  on  the  other  side,  where  I  got 
up  on  a  ditch,  and  seen  sich  a  coorse,  as  I'll 
be  bound  to  say  was  never  seen  afore  or 
since.  If  Spring  turned  that  hare  onc't  that 
day,  he  turned  her  fifty  times,  up  and  down, 
back  and  for'ard,  throughout  and  about. 

"At  last  he  run  her  right  into  the  big 
quarryhole  in  Mullaghbawn,  and  when  I 
went  up  to  look  for  her  fud,  there  I  found 
him  stretched  on  his  side,  not  able  to  stir  a 
foot,  and  the  hare  lying  about  an  inch  afore 
his  nose  as  dead  as  a  door  nail,  and  divil  a 
mark  ov  a  tooth  upon  her.  Eh,  Spring  isn't 
that  thrue  ?  "  says  he. 

Jist  at  that  minit  the  clock  sthruck 
twelve,    and,    before    you    could    say   thrap- 


FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE.      69 

Sticks,  Spring  had  the  plateful  ov  mate 
consaled. 

"  Now,"  says  his  Riv'rence,  "  hand  me 
over  my  pound,  for  I've  won  my  bate  fairly." 

"  You'll  excuse  me,"  says  the  Pope,  pock- 
eting his  money,  "  for  we  put  the  clock  half- 
an-hour  back,  out  ov  compliment  to  your 
Riv'rence,"  says  he,  "  and  it  was  Sathurday 
morning  afore  he  came  up  at  all." 

"Well,  it's  no  matther,"  says  his  Riv'- 
rence, putting  back  his  pound-note  in  his 
pocket-book,  "only,"  says  he,  "it's  hardly 
fair  to  expect  a  brute  baste  to  be  so  well 
skilled  in  the  science  ov  chronology." 

In  troth  his  Riv'rence  was  badly  used  in 
the  same  bet,  for  he  won  it  clever ;  and,  in- 
deed, I'm  afeard  the  shabby  way  he  was 
thrated  had  some  effect  in  putting  it  into  his 
mind  to  do  what  he  did. 

"Will  your  Holiness  take  a  blast  ov  the 
pipe?"  says  his  Riv'rence,  dhrawing  out  his 
dhudeen. 

"  I  never  smoke,"  says  the  Pope,  "but  I 


yO      FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE. 

haven't  the  least  objection  to  the  smell  ov  the 
tobaccay." 

**Oh,  you  had  betther  take  a  dhraw,"  says 
his  Riv'rencc,  '*  it'll  relish  the  dhrink,  that  'ud 
be  too  luscious  entirely,  vvidout  something  to 
flavour  it." 

•*  I  had  thoughts,"  said  the  Pope,  wid  the 
laste  sign  ov  a  hiccup  on  him,  "  ov  getting 
up  a  broiled  bone  for  the  same  purpose." 

"Well,"  says  his  Riv'rence,  "a  broiled 
bone  'ud  do  no  manner  ov  harm  at  this  pris- 
ent  time  ;  but  a  smoke,"  says  he,  "  'ud  flavor 
both  the  devil  and  the  dhrink." 

"What  sort  o'  tobaccay  is  it  that's  in  it?" 
says  the  Pope. 

"  Raal  nagur-head,"  says  his  Riv'rence, 
"  a  very  mild  and  salubrious  spacies  ov  the 
philosophic  weed." 

"  Then,  I  don't  care  if  I  do  take  a  dhraw," 
says  the  Pope.  Then  Father  Tom  held  the 
coal  himself  till  his  Holiness  had  the  pipe  lit; 
and  they  sat  widout  saying  any  thing  worth 
mentioning  for  about  five  minutes. 


FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE.      7I 

At  last  the  Pope  says  to  his  Riv'rence, 
"I  dunna'  what  gev  me  this  plaguy  hiccup," 
says  he.  "  Dhrink  about,"  says  he,  —  "Be- 
gorra,"  he  says,  "I  think  I'm  getting  merrier 
nor's  good  for  me.  Sing  us  a  song,  your 
Riv'rence,"  says  he. 

Father  Tom  then  sung  him  Monatagre- 
noge  and  the  Bunch  d  Rushes,  and  he  was 
mighty  well  pleased  wid  both,  keeping  time 
wid  his  hands,  and  joining  in  in  the  choruses, 
when  his  hiccup  'ud  let  him. 

At  last,  my  dear,  he  opens  the  lower  but- 
tons ov  his  waistcoat,  and  the  top  one  ov  his 
waistband,  and  calls  to  Masther  Anthony  to 
lift  up  one  ov  the  windys.  **  I  dunna  what's 
wrong  wid  me,  at  all,  at  all,"  says  he,  "  I'm 
mortial  sick." 

"  I  thrust,"  says  his  Riv'rence,  *'  the 
pasthry  that  you  ate  at  dinner  hasn't  disa- 
greed wid  your  Holiness's  stomach." 

"Oh  my!  oh!"  says  the  Pope,  "what's 
this  at  all  ?  "  gasping  for  breath,  and  as  pale 
as  a  sheet,  wid  a  could  swate  bursting  out 


72  FATHER    TOM    AXD    THE    POPE. 

over  his  forehead,  and  the  pahns  ov  his 
hands  spread  out  to  catch  the  air.  "  Oh  my  ! 
oh  my  !  "  says  he,  "  fetch  me  a  basin  ! — Don't 
spake  to  me.  Oh  ! — oh  ! — blood  ahve  ! — Oh, 
my  head,  my  head,  hould  my  head  ! — oh ! — 
ubh  ! — I'm  poisoned  ! — ach  !  " 

•'  It  was  them  plaguy  pasthries,"  says  his 
Riv'rence.  "  Hould  his  head  hard,"  says  he, 
"and  clap  a  wet  cloth  over  his  timples.  If 
you  could  only  thry  another  dhraw  o'  the 
pipe,  your  Holiness,  it  'ud  set  you  to  rights 
in  no  time." 

"  Carry  me  to  bed,"  says  the  Pope,  "  and 
never  let  me  see  that  wild  Irish  priest  again. 
I'm  poisoned  by  his  manes — ubplasch  ! — 
ach  ! — ach  ! — He  dined  wid  Cardinal  Wayld 
yestherday,"  says  he,  "and  he's  bribed  him 
to  take  me  off.  Send  for  a  confessor,"  says 
he,  "  for  my  latther  end's  approaching.  My 
head's  like  to  split — so  it  is! — Oh  my!  oh 
my  ! — ubplsch  ! — ach  ! " 

Well,  his  Riv'rence  never  thought  it 
worth  his  while  to  make  him  an  answer ;  but, 


FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE.      73 

when  he  seen  how  ungratefully  he  was  used, 
afther  all  his  throuble  in  making  the  evening 
agreeable  to  the  ould  man,  he  called  Spring, 
and  put  the  but-end  ov  the  second  bottle  into 
his  pocket,  and  left  the  house  widout  once 
wishing  "  Good-night  an'  plaisant  dhrames 
to  you  ;  "  and,  in  troth,  not  one  ov  them  axed 
him  to  lave  them  a  lock  ov  his  hair. 

That's  the  story  as  I  heard  it  tould :  but 
myself  doesn't  b'lieve  over  one-half  ov  it. 

Howandiver,  when  all's  done,  it's  a 
shame,  so  it  is,  that  he's  not  a  bishop  this 
blessed  day  and  hour :  for,  next  to  the  goiant 
ov  Saint  Jarlath's  he's  out  and  out  the  clev- 
erest fellow  ov  the  whole  jing-bang. 


Alphonse   Daudet. 


History  of  the  Pope's  Mule 


AS   FOUND    IN    THE 


LIBRARY  OF  THE  CICADii. 


FREELY  TRANSLATED  FROM  THE  FRENCH  OF 


ALPHONSE  DAUDET. 


PUBLISHER'S     PREFACE. 


'T'HE  following  History  of  the  Pope  s  Mule 
-*■       is  from  the  pen  of  Alphonse  Daudet^ 
a  modern    French    writer   of  acknowledged 
ability  and  sterling  merit. 

The  story  is  translated  from  one  of  Daudet's 
works  entitled  Lettres  de  Mon  Moulin,  and  is 
perhaps  one  of  his  most  interesting  and  admi- 
rable tales, — the  style  being  quaint  and  agree- 
able, the  characters  strongly  drawn,  and  the 
incidents  credible  and  natural,  with  the  ex- 
ception, perhaps,  of  the  mule's  extraordinary 
kick,  which  breaks  all  previous  records  of 
equine  vigor,  trenches  closely  upon  what  is 
commonly  called  the  miraculous,  but  which  is 
not  in  reality  more  wonderful  than  the  biblical 
conversation  of  the  ass  bestrode  by  Balaam, 


(77) 


78  publisher's   preface. 

But  if  we  cannot  explain  the  intense  vigor 
of  the  mule's  vengeful  kick,  we  can  at  least 
admit  that  it  was  richly  deserved  by  her  per- 
sistent tormentor ;  and  we  may  content  our- 
selves with  the  old  familiar  quotation,  which 
explains  so  many  Gallic  idiosyncrasies,  and 
which  is, — "they  do  things  quite  differently 
in  France." 

Peter  Eckler. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  POPE'S  MULE. 


I. 

EXPLANATORY  NOTICE. 

AMONG  the  suggestive  maxims,  sayings, 
or  phrases  employed  by  the  Provencal 
peasants  to  embelHsh  their  discourse,  there 
is  no  proverb  more  pertinent  or  striking 
than  the  following,  which  is  often  used  by 
these  honest  people  to  describe  a  revenge- 
ful and  malicious  disposition : — 

"Avoid  that  man,"  they  tell  us,  "  for  he 
is  like  the  Pope's  mule,  who  never  for- 
gave an  affront,  but  nursed  her  malice  and 
kept  her  revengeful  kick  during  seven  suc- 
cessive years."  * 

*  "  Get  homme-la !  m^fiezvous  !  il  est  comme  la  mule  du   Pape, 
qui  garde  sept  ans  son  coup  de  pied." 

(79) 


8o  HISTORY    OF    THE    POPE'S    MULE. 

For  a  long  time  I  tried  in  vain  to  dis- 
cover the  origin  of  the  proverb  concerning 
this  vindictive  animal,  and  to  learn  the 
reason  for  her  persistent  hatred  ;  but  I 
could  find  no  one  to  give  me  the  desired 
information. 

Not  even  Francet  Mamai,  my  fifer, 
(mon  joueur  de  fifre,)  to  whom  I  applied, 
and  whose  legendary  lore  has  long  been 
celebrated  throughout  Provence  could  ren- 
der me  any  assistance. 

He  suggested,  however,  that  the  solu- 
tion might  perhaps  be  found  in  some  an- 
cient record  of  Avignon,  and  advised  me 
to  search  diligently  in  the  Library  of  the 
Cicadae.     (La  bibliotheque  des  Cigales.) 

As  this  valuable,  though  abstruse  and 
neglected  library  was  in  my  immediate 
vicinity,  I  cheerfully  adopted  his  sugges- 
tion, and  willingly  devoted  the  time  neces- 
sary to  an  investigation  of  the  subject. 

This  Library  of  the  Cicadae,  or  rather, 
the    Library    of   Nature,   is  open  to    Poets 


HISTORY    OF    THE    POPE'S    MULE.  8l 

both  day  and  night,  and  is  wonderful  in 
its  rich  and  varied  appointments.  It  is 
served  by  minute  and  skillful  librarians, 
who  are  provided  with  tinkling  cymbals, 
and  who  voluntarily  interpret,  for  their  own 
satisfaction,  the  soothing  and  harmonious 
music    in  which    they   delight. 

In  a  reclining  position,  I  passed  several 
happy  days  in  this  engrossing  study,  and 
was  at  length  rewarded  by  discovering  what 
I  so  earnestly  desired  to  ascertain,  —  the 
history  of  the  Pope's  revengeful  Mule,  and 
of  her  extraordinary  kick,  which,  while 
awaiting  an  opportunity  to  punish  her  artful 
tormentor,  she  had  so  patiently  reserved 
for  a  period  of  seven  long  years. 

The  story  is  quaint  and  simple,  and  I 
shall  endeavor  to  relate  it  as  I  read  it  in  an 
old  manuscript,  scented  with  the  flowers  and 
perfume  of  the  fields,  tinted  with  the  azure  of 
the  skies,  and  fastened  with  threads  of  gossa- 
mer and  silken  bands  deftly  woven  by  the 
skilled  artificers  that  inhabit  the  meadows. 


II. 

THE  HAPPY  CITY  OF  AVIGNON. 

FORTUNATE  were  those  who  visited 
Avignon  during  the  days  of  Popish 
supremacy,  for  it  was  a  time  of  enjoyment 
and  pleasure.  For  gaiety,  Hfe,  feasting  and 
mirth,  that  period  will  long  be  remembered. 

From  early  morn  till  late  at  night  the 
people  w^ere  swarming  like  bees  around  the 
Papal  Palace  ;  the  streets  were  often  hung 
with  garlands,  and  strewn  with  flowers  ; 
there  was  music,  singing  and  processions  on 
every  hand  ;  banners  were  waving  in  the 
breeze,  flags  floating  in  the  air  ;  soldiers  were 
marching  gayly  to  the  strains  of  instrumental 
music  ;  priests  were  mechanically  chanting 
Latin,     and     begging     friars    were    noisily 

soliciting  alms.      Merry  bells  were   ringing, 

(82) 


HISTORY    OF    THE    POPE's    MULE.  83 

martial  drums  were  rolling.  The  tuning  of 
musical  instruments  by  their  makers  might 
be  heard,  as  well  as  the  patter  of  the  shut- 
tles weaving  the  cloth  of  gold,  the  clatter  of 
the  bobbins  weaving  lace,  and  the  rapping  of 
the  hammers  of  the  busy  goldsmiths. 

On  the  bridge  over  the  Rhone,  in  the  cool 
breeze  that  came  from  the  water,  these  con- 
tented and  happy  Provenc^als  danced  the 
merry  farandole  daily,  and  almost  con- 
stantly, to  the  inspiring  music  of  fifes  and 
tambourines. 

Oh  blessed  people !  oh  joyful  city  !  oh 
happy  times  !  when  halberds  were  plenty, 
but  injured  none,  when  dungeons  imprisoned 
only  casks  of  wine,  when  there  was  no  war, 
no  famine,  no  sickness  nor  suffering,  but  all 
was  peace,  plenty  and  happiness. 

Can  we  wonder  that  the  people  regretted 
the  removal  of  the  government  to  Rome,  or 
that  the  rulers  retained  a  kindly  remem- 
brance of  the  people  ?* 

*Voila  comment  les   Papes  du  Comtat  savaient  gouvemer  leur 
peuple  ;  voila  pourquoi  leur  peuple  los  a  tant  regrettes  ! 


III. 

THE  POPE'S  VINEYARD. 

ONE  Pope  in  particular,  named  Boniface, 
was  universally  esteemed  in  Avignon, 
and  many  bitter  tears  were  shed  in  that 
city  at  his  death.  He  was  kind,  amiable 
and  humane,  and  besides,  was  no  worshiper 
of  rank  and  power  ;  but,  as  he  rode  by 
on  his  trusted  mule,  would  smile  as  kindly 
to  the  poor  madder  gatherer,  as  to  the 
richest  "  viguier  de  la  ville,"  or  wine  merchant 
in  the  city. 

He  was  in  fact  a  true  Pope  of  Yvetot, 
a  Proven(^al  Yvetot,*  with  a  most  beneficent 
smile  and  a  courteous  blessing  for  all  his 
people. 

This   good   father's   only   foible    was   his 

*"  Un  vrai  pape  d'Vvetot,  mais  d'un  Yvetot  de  Provence/' 

(81 


HISTORY    OF    THE    POPE'S    MULE.  85 

cherished  vineyard,  a  charming  enclosure  he 
had  himself  planted  among  the  myrtles  at 
Chateau  Neuf. 

After  vespers  on  each  recurring  Sunday, 
this  worthy  prelate  visited  his  precious  vine- 
yard, where,  surrounded  by  his  cardinals, 
and  seated  in  the  bright  sunlight,  (after  his 
faithful  mule  had  been  made  comfortable), 
he  would  order  a  flask  of  his  own  wine 
to  be  opened — that  famous  ruby-tinted  wine, 
afterwards  known  as  the  Pope's  Chateau 
Neuf,  (Chateau-Neuf  des  Papes.) 

This  wine  the  Pope  would  sip  slowly 
and  thoughtfully,  while  gazing  serenely  at 
his  well-kept  and  fruitful  vineyard.  And, 
after  the  bottle  had  at  length  been  emptied, 
and  the  sun  had  declined  far  in  the  west,  the 
good  father,  followed  by  his  attendants,  re- 
traced his  steps,  and  as  he  rode  past  the 
merry  dancers  on  the  bridge  over  the  Rhone, 
the  mule,  animated  by  the  music,  ambled 
gracefully  and  gayly  along,  while  the  Pope, 
inspired    by    the    pleasant    scene,    beat  time 


86  HISTORY   OF    THE    POPE'S    MULE. 

merrily  to  the  music  of  the  dancers, — to  the 
great  scandal  of  the  dignified  cardinals  it  is 
true,  but  also  to  the  unbounded  admiration 
of  the  people,  who  joyfully  cried,  "What 
an  amiable  prince !  what  a  jolly  Pope ! " 
—  ("Ah!  le  bon  prince!  Ah  !  le  brave 
pape ! ") 


IV. 
THE  BELOVED  MULE. 

AFTER  his  vineyard  at  Chateau- Neuf, 
of  all  things  in  the  world,  the  Pope 
loved  best  his  faithful  mule,  to  which  he 
was    most    tenderly   attached. 

Each  night,  before  retiring  to  rest,  he 
personally  visited  the  stable,  saw  that  the 
manger  was  well  supplied  with  food,  and 
that  the   door  was  securely  fastened. 

He  never  rose  from  the  dinner-table 
without  first  remembering  his  trusted  favorite, 
and  having  a  large  bowl  of  French  wine, 
(un  grand  bol  de  vin  a  la  Frangaise,) 
filled  before  his  eyes,  and  flavored  with  spices 
and  sugar,  which  he  carried  to  her  himself, 
regardless  of  the  frowns  and  comments  of  the 
cardinals. 

(87) 


88  HISTORY    OF    THE    POPE's    MULE. 

And  it  cannot  be  denied  that  Pecaire,  as 
the  mule  was  named,  was  worthy  of  this 
attention.  She  was  a  magnificent  animal, 
of  a  splendid  form,  a  gentle  disposition,  and 
a  robust  constitution. 

In  color  she  was  a  rich  black,  tinted  with 
reddish  spots,  which  formed  an  agreeable 
contrast  on  her  glossy  coat. 

Her  finely-formed  head,  which  she  car- 
ried proudly,  was  tastefully  ornamented  with 
tassels,  ribbons,  and  bells. 

Her  long  and  pointed  ears,  which  she 
moved  gracefully  backward  and  forward, 
gave  her  a  peaceful  and  good-natured 
appearance. 

Above  all,  she  was  absolutely  sure-footed, 
of  tried  courage,  and  was  possessed  of  a 
strength  and  endurance,  that  could  scarcely 
be  excelled. 

The  inhabitants  of  Avignon  all  knew  and 
respected  her,  and  as  she  passed  along  the 
streets,  she  always  received  the  greatest  at- 
tention. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  POPE's  MULE.  89 

The  reason  for  Pecaire's  great  popu- 
larity, in  addition  to  her  own  inherent  merits, 
was,  that  the  showing  of  favors  to  her,  was 
the  surest  way  of  winning  favors  at  court ; 
and  the  knowledge  of  this  fact  was  the 
means  of  advancing  the  fortunes  of  many 
courtiers  and  flatterers,  as  was  shown  by  the 
rapid  advancement  and  brilhant  success  of 
the  intriguing  adventurer,  Tistet  Vedene. 


V. 

TISTET  VfeDl:NE. 

npHIS  Tistet  Vedene,  the  son  of  the  gold- 
^  smith  Guy  Vedene,  was  an  idle,  worth- 
less fellow,  whose  father  had  banished  him 
from  home,  because,  not  being  satisfied  with 
his  own  idleness,  he  endeavored  to  corrupt 
and  discourage  the  other  apprentices. 

For  months  Tistet  had  lived  in  great 
poverty  at  Avignon,  and  might  daily  be  seen 
wandering  listlessly  in  the  vicinity  of  the 
Papal  palace. 

One  day  he  chanced  to  meet  the  Pope, 
who  was  riding  unattended  on  the  ramparts, 
when  the  young  diplomatist,  seeing  the  long 
sought  opportunity,  held  up  his  hands  in 
pretended  admiration,  and  rapturously  ex- 
claimed : 

(go) 


HISTORY  OF  THE  POPE  S  IMULE.  9I 

"Ah  mon  Dieu  !  grand  Saint- Pere,  what 
a  brave  mule  is  yours  !  Permit  me  to  admire 
the  beautiful  creature.  She  has  none  to 
equal  her  in  all  the  stables  of  Europe." 

And  then,  caressing  and  softly  stroking 
the  animal,  he  cried,  "my  treasure,  my  jewel, 
my  darling,  my  love!" 

And  the  good  Pope,  deeply  moved,  said 
to  himself,  "What  a  sensible  lad,  what  a  kind 
and  generous  youth  ! " 

And  the  next  day  this  artful  flatterer  ex- 
changed his  tattered  garments  for  a  fine  lace 
alb,  a  silk  cassock  and  buckled  shoes,  and 
was  duly  installed  as  a  member  of  the  Pope's 
household  ;  which  honor  had  previously  been 
reserved  for  the  sons  of  nobles  and  the  rela- 
tives of  cardinals  only. 

Behold  the  triumph  of  flattery  and  diplo- 
macy— the  reward  of  cunning  and  deceit. 

But  the  ambition  of  Testet  was  not  yet 
satisfied,  and  his  first  success  led  him  on  to 
greater  efforts. 

Feeling    secure    in    his    position   in   the 


92  HISTORY  OF  THE  POPIt  S  MULE. 

Pope's  household,  he  became  insolent  and 
arrogant  to  all  who  approached  him,  and, 
apparently,  showered  all  his  kindness  and 
attention  upon  the  mule. 

He  w^as  often  met  in  the  palace  grounds, 
in  front  of  the  Pope's  balcony,  with  a  hand- 
ful of  oats,  or  a  bunch  of  clover,  waving  the 
fragrant  blossoms  to  attract  attention.  This 
artifice  succeeded  so  well,  that  at  length  the 
Pope  entrusted  to  him  the  entire  care  of  the 
stable,  and  permitted  him  to  carry  to  the 
mule  her  bowl  of  highly-flavored  French 
w^ine,  to  which  she  had  so  long  been  ac- 
customed. 

But  this  last  proof  of  the  Pope's  favor 
to  Tistet,  excited  the  anger  and  indignation 
of  the  jealous  cardinals. 


VI. 

THE  MULE  ROBBED  AND  TORMENTED. 

HOWEVER  great  the  opposition  of  the 
cardinals  to  the  promotion  of  Tistet 
Vedeme  may  have  been,  it  certainly  did  not 
equal  that  of  the  unfortunate  mule ;  for  not- 
withstanding Tistet  appeared  daily  at  the 
stable,  carrying  with  care  the  bowl  of  French 
wine — the  aromatic  wine  which  Pecai're  loved 
so  well — which  warmed  her  blood,  cheered 
her  heart,  and  restored  the  feelings  of  her 
youth, — this  delicately-perfumed  wine,  whose 
rich  aroma  filled  her  nostrils  and  excited  her 
desires,  she  was  not  even  permitted  to  taste, 
but  instead,  she  was  fated  to  see  it  disappear 
each  day  down  the  throats  of  Tistet  and 
his  friends,  the  young  acolytes. 

But  it  was   not  enough  for  these  young 

(93) 


94  HISTORY    OF    THE    POPE'S    MULE. 

rascals  to  rob  her  of  her  wine  ;  they  became 
perfect  imps  while  under  its  influence.  One 
pinched  her  ears,  another  pulled  her  tail. 
Quiquet  got  on  her  back,  Beluguet  placed  his 
cap  over  her  eyes,  and  they  never  realized 
that  Pecaire,  with  one  of  her  vicious  kicks, 
could  easily  have  sent  them  in  the  direction 
of  the  North  star,  had  she  so  willed. 

But  the  good  mule  was  used  to  blessings 
and  indulgences,  and  whatever  the  children 
might  do,  Pecaire  would  not  harm  them  in 
the  least. 

All  her  malice  was  reserved  for  the  wicked 
Tistet  Vedene, — who  played  her  such  cruel 
tricks  when  under  the  influence  of  the  stolen 
wine. 

Her  iron-shod  hoofs  fairly  longed  to  in- 
flict the  punishment  which  was  his  due,  as 
well  as  to  gratify  the  revenge  for  which  she 
pined. 


VII. 
p^caire:  ascends  the  tower. 

THE  highest  point  near  the  Pope's  palace 
was  the  belfry  tower,  which  was  reached 
by  a  winding  staircase.  Up  this  long  and 
tedious  stairs  the  mischievous  Tistet  led  the 
obedient  mule  ;  and  when  at  last  she  reached 
the  end  of  the  gloomy  passage  and  emerged 
into  the  bright  sunlight  at  the  top,  she  at  once 
realized  her  dangerous  position,  and,  over- 
come with  dizziness  at  the  unaccustomed 
height,  neighed  shrilly  in  terror  and  alarm. 

The  view  before  her  was  beautiful.  The 
city  of  Avignon,  on  the  banks  of  the  Rhone, 
was  spread  out  before  her.  The  streets  were 
alive  with  people,  the  soldiers  were  at  their 
barracks,  the  bridge,  as  usual,  was  filled  with 
merry  dancers.  In  the  distance  the  peasants 
could  be  seen  toiling  in  the  fields,  and  the 
cattle  feeding  in  the  pastures.     All  seemed 

(95) 


96  HISTORY    OF    THE    POPE's    MULE. 

quiet  and  serene  ;  but  Pecaire  cared  nothing 
for  the  splendid  view,  but  trembled  at  the 
dizzy  height,  and,  as  she  wandered  around 
the  belfry,  neighed  louder  than  before  in  an 
agony  of  fear. 

The  Pope  heard  her  voice,  and,  greatly 
alarmed,  came  out  on  the  balcony  to  learn 
the  cause. 

The  roguish  Tistet  had  meanwhile  re- 
gained the  courtyard,  inwardly  bursting  with 
mirth,  but  outwardly  pretending  to  weep  with 
fear  and  apprehension. 

"Ah!  grand  Saint-Fere,"  he  cried,  "look 
at  your  mule  !  What  shall  we  do  ?  Pecaire 
has  climbed  to  the  belfry  !" 

"  Toute  seule  ?  "  enquired  his  holiness. 

"  Oui,  grand  Saint-Pere,  entirely  alone," 
replied  Tistet.  "  See  her  waving  her  two 
pointed  ears,  that  look  like  fluttering  birds." 

'' Misericorde  ! ''  said  the  Pope,  raising  his 
eyes  towards  the  belfry,  "  My  mule  has  lost 
her  senses.  Come  down  at  once — (V^eux-tu 
bien  descendre,) — you  unfortunate  creature." 


HISTORY  OF  THE  POPE  S  MULE.  97 

Nothing  would  have  pleased  Pecaire  bet- 
ter than  to  have  been  able  to  descend  to  the 
earth  once  more,  but  how  was  she  to  do  so  ? 
With  great  difficulty  a  mule  may  ascend  a 
staircase,  but  to  descend  it,  is  impossible. 
The  attempt  to  do  so  would  be  on  her  part 
like  willful  suicide,  and  Pecaire  became  giddy 
at  the  very  thought.  Clearly  realizing  her 
dangerous  position,  she  thought  of  the  mis- 
chievous cause  of  all  her  trouble,  and  at  that 
moment  she  remembered  Tistet  Vedene. 

"Ah!  bandit!"  she  repeated  softly  to 
herself,  "  if  I  escape  safely  from  this  belfry 
to-day,  I  shall  surely  kick  you  into  eternity 
when  you  appear  at  the  stable  to-morrow !  " 

This  thought  of  revenge  revived  her 
drooping  spirits,  and  enabled  her  to  endure  the 
disgrace  of  being  lowered  with  a  crane  and 
pulley,  before  the  eyes  of  all  the  people  of 
Avignon  ;  and  of  listening  to  their  derisive  re- 
marks and  jeering  laughter,  while  thus  dan- 
gling in  the  air  like  a  fish  caught  on  a  hook. 


VIII. 

THE  MULE  BECOMES  REVENGEFUL. 

T^HE  unhappy  mule  could  not  sleep  a  wink 
^  that  night,  but  lay  awake  in  her  stable, 
regretting  her  disgrace,  and  gloating  over 
her  anticipated  revenge.  But  Tistet  Vedene 
did  not  visit  her  in  the  morning.  He  was 
descending  the  Rhone  in  a  papal  barge,  with 
a  company  of  young  nobles,  sent  by  the  city 
of  Avignon  each  year  to  the  Neapolitan 
court,  to  learn  polite  manners  and  the  arts 
of  diplomacy. 

The  Pope  included  Tistet  in  this  company 
of  noble  youths,  notwithstanding  his  plebeian 
origin,  as  a  reward  for  his  unwearied  atten- 
tion to  the  mule's  welfare,  and  particularly 
for  the  activity  he  had  shown  in  rescuing  her 
from  her  perilous  position  in  the  belfry. 


HISTORY   OF   THE    POPE  S    MULE.  99 

Can  you  wonder  that  the  mule  shook  her 
bells  furiously  when  she  learned  these  facts, 
and  can  you  blame  her  for  the  solemn  vow 
she  then   and  there  recorded  ? 

"  I  will  never  forgive  nor  forget  your  cru- 
elty to  me,  Tistet  Vedene,  and  you  shall  re- 
ceive in  payment  my  death-dealing  kick  on 
your  return  to  Avignon." 

After  Tistet's  departure  the  mule  was  no 
longer  plagued  and  tormented  by  the  young 
acolytes,  and  gradually  resumed  her  tranquil 
ways.  She  again  received  regularly  her 
bowi  of  French  wine,  and  again  enjoyed  with 
satisfaction  the  refreshing  slumber  it  induced. 
She  even  resumed  her  dancing  steps  on  the 
bridge  at  Avignon. 

But,  since  her  unhappy  adventure  in  the 
belfry,  a  certain  mistrust  and  coldness  towards 
her  was  apparent  in  the  community.  The  old 
men  sagely  shook  their  heads,  the  women 
whispered  mysteriously  together,  the  children 
pointed  to  the  belfry  and  laughed  aloud. 


100         HISTORY  OF  THE  POPE  S  MULE. 

The  good  Pope,  who  loved  to  doze  while 
riding  on  the  mule's  back,  after  drinking  at 
the  vineyard  a  bottle  of  his  own  rich  wine, 
sometimes  feared  he  might  awake,  from  his 
beatific  slumber,  in  the  belfry  of  the  tower. 

The  mule  perceived  this  universal  distrust 
of  her  character,  and  while  it  deeply  injured 
her  sensitive  feelings,  it  also  greatly  deepened 
her  desire  for  revenge.  If  Tistet's  name 
happened  to  be  mentioned  in  her  presence, 
her  ears  at  once  quivered  with  excitement, 
and  her  iron  shoes  had  then  an  ominous 
grating-sound  on  the  stony  pavement. 


IX. 
TISTET  HONORED  BY  THE  POPE. 

AT  the  end  of  seven  years,  Tistet  Vedene 
returned  from  the  Court  of  Naples, 
to  Avignon.  He  had  there  learned  that  the 
Chief  Mustard-bearer  to  the  Pope  was  dead, 
and  he  at  once  decided  to  apply  for  the 
position. 

He  had  grown  so  tall  and  robust  that  the 
Pope,  who  had  mislaid  his  spectacles,  did  not 
immediately  recognize  him  ;  but  Tistet  was 
not  in  the  least  disconcerted. 

"Have  you  forgotten  me.  Holy  Father?" 
he  enquired,  "it  is  I,  Tistet  Vedene." 

"Vedene?" 

"  Yes,  Vedene.  You  formerly  permitted 
me  to  carry  French  wine  to  your  mule. 
Don't  you  know  me  ?  " 

(101) 


I02        HISTORY    OI'    THE    POPE  S    MULIi. 

"Ah!,  yes,  I .  remember.  Un  bon  petit 
gar(;onnet  •  ce  Tistet  Vedene !  And  what 
brings-y-ou;  .ba;cki:o  AWgilon  ?  " 

"A  mere  trifle,  Holy  Father.  I  come  to 
ask  you,  Illustrious  Pontiff, — but,  by-the-way 
— How  is  the  mule? — Does  she  still  live? — 
I  am  delighted  to  hear  from  her ! — I  came  to 
solicit  the  office  of  Chief  Mustard-bearer, 
which  I  learn  is  now  vacant." 

"Premier  Moutardier  ?  I  fear  you  are 
too  young.     What  is  your  age  ?  " 

"Twenty  years  and  two  months,  Hcly 
Father, — ^just  five  years  younger  than  Pecaire. 
Ah  !  palme  de  Dieu,  la  brave  bete  !  If  you 
could  only  realize  how  sincerely  I  loved  her, 
— how  I  missed  her  during  my  absence  ! 
Will  you  not  permit  me.  Illustrious  Pontift", 
to  see  her  once  again  ?  " 

"  Yes,  indeed,"  replied  the  Pope,  with 
visible  emotion.  And  since  you  love  the 
noble  creature  so  well,  you  shall  remain  with 
her  in  future.  From  this  day  I  confer  on 
you  the  office  of  Premier   Moutardier.     My 


HISTORY    OF    THE    POPE  S    MULE.        IO3 

Cardinals  will  object — they  always  do — but 
that  is  of  no  consequence, — I  am  used  to 
their  protestations.  Come  after  vespers  to- 
morrow afternoon,  and  we  will  confer  on  you, 
before  the  assembled  Chapter,  the  insignia  of 
your  office.  After  which,  I  will  present  you 
to  the  mule,  and  you  shall  accompany  us  to 
the  vineyard. 


X. 

THE  MULE'S  REVENGE. 

T^HAT  Tistet  was  elated  as  he  left  the 
^  Pope's  presence,  it  is  unnecessary  to 
state,  nor  is  it  necessary  to  describe  with  what 
impatience  he  awaited  the  ceremony  of  in- 
stallation on  the  ensuing  day.  But  another 
party,  near  the  palace,  who  had  heard  of  all 
the  facts,  was  still  happier  and  even  more  im- 
patient than  Tistet, — and  this  was  none  other 
than  Pecaire, — the  vindictive  mule. 

From  the  return  of  Vedene  till  his  inter- 
view with  the  Pope,  she  had  eaten  quite 
heartily  with  a  view  of  recruiting  her  strength, 
and  she  had  also  kept  practicing  with  her 
heels  at  the  wall  behind  her,  to  keep  herself 
in  training  for  the  approaching  ceremony. 
After   vespers    had  been   sung  the    next 

(104) 


HISTORY  OF  THE  POPE  S  MULE.  IO5 

day,  the  proud  Vedeme,  according  to  appoint- 
ment, went  to  the  papal  palace.  The-  upper 
clergy  were  present, — the  cardinals  in  red 
robes,  the  devil's  advocate  in  his  accustomed 
black  velvet,  the  abbots  with  their  little  mitres, 
the  brave  guardians  of  St.  Agrico,  the  mem- 
bers of  the  Pope's  household  in  violet  capes, 
the  Pope's  soldiers  in  full  uniform,  the  three 
divisions  of  penitents,  the  hermits  of  Mont 
Ventoux,  the  holy  flagellants,  stripped  to  the 
waist,  the  holy-water  bearers,  the  expert 
lighters  and  extinguishers  of  holy  candles, 
etc.,  etc.,  were  all  present  and  formed  an  im- 
posing assemblage. 

When  Vedene  appeared  on  the  scene, 
his  handsome  person,  graceful  bearing,  and 
pleasing  address  made  a  most  favorable  im- 
pression on  the  company. 

He  was  a  ProvenQal  of  the  blond  type  of 
beauty,  with  regular  features,  fair  complexion, 
brilliant  eyes,  abundant  hair,  and  a  golden 
beard,  with  which,  as  rumor  said,  Queen 
Jeanne  had  often  toyed.     At  any  rate,  Tistet 


Io6        HISTORY    OF    THE    POPE's    MULE. 

had  the  air,  self-conscious,  arrogant  and  im- 
pudent, of  those   beloved  by  queens. 

In  honor  of  the  occasion,  Tistet  had  ex- 
changed his  Neapolitan  dress  for  a  jaquette 
bordee  de  rose  a  la  Proven^ale,  and  his  cap 
was  ornamented  with  a  grandc  plume  d'ibis 
de  Camargue. 

As  the  Premier  Moutardier  entered,  he 
gracefully  bowed  to  the  assembled  company, 
and  turned  towards  the  platform  where  the 
Pope  was  waiting  to  invest  him  with  the  in- 
signia of  his  office — the  yellow  box-wood 
spoon  and  the  saffron  doublet. 

The  mule  was  near  the  foot  of  the  stairs, 
waiting  for  the  excursion  to  the  vineyard. 

Tistet  smiled  sw^eetly  as  he  passed  near 
her,  and  stopped  to  pet  her  on  the  back, 
looking  meanwhile  sidew  ays  at  the  Pope  to 
see  if  he  was  observed  by  the  Holy  Father. 

The  mule  was  quivering  with  excitement, 
the  moment  of  her  revenge  had  arrived,  and 
promptly  she  availed  hers^elf  of  the  wished-for 


TISTr:T  AND    I'HCAIRE. 


HISTORY    OF    THE    POPE'S    MULE.         IO7 

opportunity.  She  took  a  step  forward,  and 
another  sideways,  which  brought  her  enemy 
in  proper  position,  and  then,  with  the  pent-up 
fury  of  seven  years  of  hatred,  she  launched 
a  kick  so  great,  so  grand,  so  appalhng,  so 
terrific,  that  its  debris— a  cloud  of  golden 
dust  encircling  an  ibis  plume — was  seen  in  a 
cyclonic  whirlwind  passing  over  Pamperi- 
gouste,  and  that  fleeting  vision  was  all  that 
remained  of  the  artful,  the  impudent,  the 
cruel,  the  unhappy  Tistet  Vedene. 

A  mule's  kick,  it  is  true,  is  not  usually 
so  annihilating.  But,  remember,  that  this 
was  a  Pope's  mule,  and  that  this  kick  con- 
tained the  pent-up  energy  of  seven  years' 
revenge.  It  was,  perhaps,  the  most  forcible 
illustration  yet  given  of  the  intense  rancor  of 
ecclesiastical  hatred. 


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The  Wilderness  of  Worlds 

A  Secular  and  zip-to-date   Scientific  Work  / 

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The    Wilderness  of  Worlds. 

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from  Neoula  to  Man,  and  the  Life-Orbit  of  a  Star." 

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Indeed,  The  Wilderness  of  Worlds,  is  so  plain,  so  earnest,  so 
impartial,  and  so  reasonabL,  that,  to  quote  a  popular  scriptural 
text,  even  "The  wayfaring  man,  though  [not  necessarily]  a 
fool,  need  not  err  therein."     In  his  preface,  the  author  says  : 

"I  have  in  my  mind  a  wilderness  of  trees.  Those  near  me  are  of 
gigantic  size  ;  in  the  distance  they  seem  smaller  and  smaller,  fading 
gradually  until  the  utmost  limit  of  vision  is  reached.  Not  a  single 
clearing  is  to  be  seen.  The  ground  is  covered  with  seeds,  many  of 
which  are  beginning  to  vegetate.  Tiiere  are  innumerable  seedlings 
and  yoang  trees,  and  mature  trees  ;  all  stages,  the  living,  the  dying, 
the  dead,  and  the  prostrate,  mouldering  trunks — a  fair,  a  wonderful, 
but  natural  scene. 

"  I  raise  my  eyes  and  look  outward  into  space.  I  see  the  wilderness 
of  worlds.  The  one  on  which  I  stand  seems  of  immense  size.  The 
iiniumerable  multitude  beyond  fade  in  the  distance.  I  run  to  the 
telescope ;  my  vision  is  extended  a  thousand-fold  ;  millions  more 
come  into  view,  and  in  the  thousand  times  more  distant  circle  of 
vision  fade  gradually  until  in  the  outer  limits  only  glimpses  can  be 
caught  of  faint  points  of  light.  The  worlds,  too,  are  of  all  ages  like 
the  trees,  and  the  great  deep  of  space  is  strewn  with  their  dust,  and  is 
pulsating  with  the  potency  of  new  births. 

'"How  grand,  complete  and  sublime  are  the  works  and  workings 
ofNiture.  We  stand  with  bowed  heads,  entranced  and  speechless 
in  the  presence  of  the  Universe.  Held  in  its  all-embracing  arms,  we 
are  of  it, — one  and  inseparable." 

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PETER  ECKLER,  Publisher,  35  Fulton  St„  N.  Y. 


^he  l^ibcral  Classics^  ®0.  6.) 


A    NliW    EDITION,    JUST    ILIBLISHED,    OF 


VoLNEY's  Ruins 


THE  LAW  OF  NATURE, 

lO    WHICH    IS   ADDED 

volney's  answer  to  dr.  priestly,  a  biographical  notice 

by  count  daru,  and  the  zodiacal  signs  and 

constellations  by  the  editor  ; 

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ance and  misery.  TIic  author  is  supposed  to  meet  in  the  ruins  of  Palmyra  an  apparition  or 
phantom,  which  explains  the  true  principles  of  society,  and  the  causes  of  both  the  pros- 
perity and  the  ruin  of  ancient  states.  A  general  assembly  of  the  nations  is  at  length 
convened,  a  legislative  body  formed,  the  source  and  origin  of  religion,  of  government, 
and  of  laws  discussed,  and  the  Law  of  Nature— founded  on  justice  and  equity—  is  finally 
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it  ia  UirCa,y"—BeU.gio-Philo9ophical  Journal. 


'ght  %ihttKl  (EXnssics,  mo.  2.) 


Voltaire's  Romances, 

A  New  Edition,  Profusely  Illustrated. 


'  I  choose  that  a  story  should  be  founded  on  probability,  and  not  always  resemble  a 
dream.  I  desire  to  find  nothing  in  it  trivial  or  extravagant ;  and  I  desire  above  all, 
that  under  the  appearance  of  fable,  there  may  appear  some  latent  truth,  obvious  to 
the  discerning  eye,  though  it  escape  the  observation  of  the  vulgar. " —  Voltaire. 

CONTENTS. 


Thk  Whitk  Bull  ;  a  Satirical  Romance. 
Zadig;  or  Fatk.    An  Oriental  History. 
Thjc  Sack  and  Thk  Athsist. 
Thk  Princkss  of  Babylon. 
The  Man  of  Forty  Crowns. 
Thk  Huron  ;  or  Pupil  of  Nature. 
MiCROMBGAs.    A  satire  on  mankind. 
The  World  as  it  Goes. 
Thk  Black  and  Thr  White. 
Memnon  the  Philosopher. 
Andre  Des  Touches  at  Siam. 


Bababec. 

The  Study  of  Nature. 

A  Conversation  with  a  Chinese. 

Plato's  Dream. 

A  Pleasure  in  Having  no  Plbasurk. 

An  Adventure  in  India. 

Jeannot  and  Colin. 

Travels  of  Scarmkntado. 

The  Good  Bramin. 

The  Two  Comforters, 

Ancient  Faith  and  Fable. 


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Voltaire's  satire  was  as  keen  and  fine  pointed  as  a  rapier. — Magaxine  of  Am.  HUiory 
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'^lie  gilj^ial  Classics,  ma.  i.) 


History  of  Christianity 

Somprising  all  that  relates  to  the  Christian  religion  in  "  The  History  of  the  Declint 
and  Fall  of  the  Roman  Empire,"  and,  also, 

^A    VINDICATION*- 

(utjver  before  published  io  this  coilntrj-,) 

of  "SoMB  Passages  in  the  Fifteenth  and  Sixteenth  Chapters,"  hy 

EDWARD   GIBBON,   Esq. 

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"  This  important  work  contains  Gibbon's  ooraplete  Theological  writings,  separate  from  hi« 
historical  and  miscellaneous  works,  showing  when,  where,  and  how  Christianity  originated; 
VBho  were  its  founders ;  and  what  were  the  sentiments,  character,  manners,  numbers  and  con- 
dition of  the  primitive  Christians.  What  has  been  said  by  Christians  in  regard  *.o  the  Origin 
of  Ohristianity  is  reprinted  from  the  valuable  notes  of  Dean  MUman,  Wenck,  Guizot,  and  other 
eminent  Christian  historians  who  have  edited  Gibbon's  works :  and  the  pious  but  scholarly 
remarks  of  the  learned  editor  of  Bohn's  edition  of  Gibbon  are  also  given  in  full.  Among  the 
numerous  illustrations  will  be  found  representations  of  the  principal  divinities  of  the  Pagan 
mythology.  The  sketch  of  thn  author's  lifo  artfi.';  vnlue  and  interest  to  the  book,  which  is  not 
onlv  TeU  edited  and  printed,  but  substantially  bound.  It  will  be  a  treasure  for  all  librari«8." 
—  ■fht  Moffaaine  of  American  Bistoni. 


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